Of Frost and Flame
by faeriemaiden96
Summary: Kat is a murderer. A monster. And what better job is there for a monster than working as a circus freak? Kat, while still feeling out of place, is content for the most part. But when the Avengers show up with an offer she can't refuse, her life may never be the same. And of course, that certain dark-haired, green-eyed god of mischief isn't helping. LokixOC
1. A Serpent Is Born

Chapter One

There are those who would say that my birth was a miracle. I should have died in my mother's womb. People today would agree that my entrance into this world was a gift from God.

They are wrong.

They don't know the horror of being born into such a cruel time in history, Ireland during the tenth century. They know nothing about being shunned for something they didn't ask to have. None of them know what it's like to always feel out of place, no matter where they go or what they do.

They don't know.

…

My mother was horribly ill when she was carrying me inside of her. I was going to be her first child. My father was desperate. He didn't want his wife to die, he wanted to be left with at least one child, and because my mother was so ill, my death was going to be inevitable.

So he slaughtered one of his goats, travelled into the forest and searched among the abandoned ruins of the Pagan tribes. And then he found her. Aigneis, the witch, the Crom Cruach-worshipper.

He offered her the goat and begged her to help him. She gave to him an elixir that would cure my mother of her illness, however because it would be Crom Cruach's magic curing her, he would also have a hand in the child's appearance.

My father did not think much of that and took the elixir. My mother healed and gave birth to me.

When the midwife saw my legs, she screamed. My father was frozen in shock. On my legs, what normally would have been warm, human flesh, were instead the cold, green scales of a snake. My parents hid me away, never letting me leave my house until I was old enough to understand their commands. Always wear long dresses. Always wear your shoes. Never run with the other children. Only a few years later did I find out about my other abilities.

When I was three I discovered that I was able to turn myself into a snake. I learned this when I wanted to get out of my small cradle. Without thinking, I felt myself getting smaller and I was easily able to slip out of my cage. My poor mother learned this when she began to beat me with a broom. I was wailing when I turned myself into a human again. I was yanked onto my feet and was told never to do it again. She looked truly frightened, I had a feeling that the only thing that was preventing her from killing me then and there was her loyalty to the word of God: thou shall not kill. But, Lord, both she and my father were ready.

My mother and father had other children after me. Children that they were proud of, that is. Although they never said it in words, I knew they were ashamed of me. I was child of the heathen gods and I had better be grateful that they hadn't abandoned me.

I would have gladly accepted abandonment.

The only moments where I was able to be myself were when I escaped to the forest. Only me and the spirits of the wood. I would shed the clothes that covered my body and let the soft breezes caress my nakedness. It was there that I explored my ability. I found that I could turn my hips down into a snake's tail, just like a mermaid or I could grow a snake's face while maintaining a human body and so on. It was a time where I almost felt that is was a gift. I was almost…proud of it.

But when I turned eleven, that all changed.

I was swimming in a pond, my tail slithering in the water when that group of hunters spotted me.

It all happened so fast, that I didn't even realize it. The next thing I knew, I was tied to a stake in the middle of the town square, being declared a witch. A lamia. And did my parents defend me?

Not even once. They only wept at the horror of having a daughter who would practice witchcraft. I knew that they were ready to get rid of me, they merely wanted to keep their hands clean. A witch for a daughter? What a concept.

The villagers screamed horrible things at me. They told me to burn in hell and to rid myself of this world, as it was cursed enough already. Their words added to the years of scorn from my parents and the fear of death was too much for me to bear.

As the executioner stepped up bearing the torch, the smell of burning wood filled the air and the rising ash was making my eyes burn. The rope dug painfully into the skin on my arms as I was bound, lost in despair.

Then, it struck me, I turned into a snake and slithered off of the stake, darting the flames. People began to step on me and jab their weapons at me while their screams pierced the air.

I wasn't going to let them win. It wasn't my fault that I was born like that. I didn't ask for it. They didn't own me.

I stopped in the middle of the mob and turned back into a human. I didn't know how or why I knew what to do, I just did. I stood naked in front of my oppressors and raised my hands. A surge of hot energy rushed through my limbs and my hands burst into large flames. Before the crowd could do anything, I began to smother them with the fire. And then the shrieks of horror began to ring throughout the land. I began to shower my flames at the houses, trapping people inside. No one was spared. My little hamlet was now filled with smoldering buildings and writhing bodies which were slowly burning.

Right after the damage, the horror of my deed began to wash over me. I began to sprint through the flames and as I did, I was completely unharmed by them. My ability to not only wield fire, but not be burned by it had awakened.

I ran to the forest and watched the home I had once inhabited by swallowed by fire. My fire. And then the rain came and put out the flames, leaving nothing but charred houses and burnt carcasses. I wept for days about what I had done. I had taken the lives of a whole village of people; the elderly, children, babies. For a while, I thought that what I had done was wrong.

Then I realized, they deserved what they got. These were the same hypocrites who believed in God's message of love, but at the same time, shunned people who were different. And while those children were innocent at the moment, they would have grown to be just like their parents: judgmental, cruel, and oppressive.

From then on, my aging slowed. I didn't know why, but I assumed my powers were what would give me this unnaturally long life. I didn't know if I was mortal or immortal, but I was too frightened to find out. I was formed by a deity and cured by magic, anything was possible with those two elements.

I remained in the Irish forest for two hundred years (being sighted briefly by several people) and then I traveled to England. Over a long time I learned how to speak English and read. Soon, I began to travel all of the European continent as far as Russia and Spain and then back to the British Isles. I killed countless people over the centuries, all in different countries-but I never used my flame. My fire was messy, uncontrollable-it did far too much obvious damage. No, I would always turn into a snake, bite them, and break their necks. These people were brutal. They were people who had inflicted their tyranny on the downtrodden whether they were mayors of tiny towns or great leaders of nations. I was there. I always try to be there when I can. Sometimes I don't hear about soon enough or my schedule doesn't allow it.

Even though I had taken something good from my first killing, the whispers, the voices, the evil words of the townspeople still haunt me. The things they called me only seem to become truer for me every year. It's sad that those are things that I remember, I forgot my siblings, my house, most of my native tongue. I even forgot my name.

Indeed, no matter how many lives I take, no matter how many lessons I teach, no matter how many show-hungry people applaud my ability, I know in my heart that I truly am what everyone said I was: a monster.

…

There was one time where I had felt truly peaceful.

I was eight years old, I was up in a tree practicing how to fuse my legs together. The breeze was soft and the sun was peaking through the clouds. A little bit away, I saw a blinding burst of light. Then it was gone.

I heard man speak, "My sons, this is what an Midgardian forest in the Emerald Isle looks like."

"Father!" a younger-sounding voice whined, "But I want to go North. There's snow and ice-I can pretend that I'm battling Frost Giants. They also seem to like us there more."

"That's enough," said a female voice. "We're just staying here to eat."

My stomach rumbled at the mention of eating. And although I couldn't see them, the fragrant smell of whatever food they had brought was wafting up to my nostrils.

"Mother, can I take some food and go exploring?" asked another young-sounding voice, this one sounded a bit more reserved.

"Of course, dear," answered the female.

After a few minutes, the crunch of footsteps on the forest floor began to come near me. The walker was now coming into view. It was a boy about my age, maybe a little older, with dark hair and a slender build. Even for someone about eight or nine, he was already rather tall. In his arms were a small bag of what I guessed was food and a book. A book? Did he know how rare those were? Why would he be so careless as to bring one to the woods?

My thoughts were interrupted when he sat at the bottom of the tree I was in. I was thankful that I had worn a frock that day. However, my heart began to race in panic. What if he saw me? What if he saw my legs? Would he tell someone?

Before I realized it, I heard the terrifying snap of a branch breaking. It was the branch I was on. I bit my lip as I fell with a loud, painful thud in front of the boy, making him gasp in surprise.

I lifted my face off the ground to look at him. His startlingly bright green eyes looked at my face and then behind me in shock. He was staring at my legs.

With a scared squeal, I began to crawl away from him and run behind a tree.

"No, wait," he protested, getting up to follow me. Unfortunately, he was much faster than I was and managed to grab my shoulder. "Wait¸ don't run."

I bit my lip and slowly turned around to face him. I was too frightened to look into his eyes again.

"I'm not going to hurt you, I promise," he said.

"You're…not?" I squeaked.

"Of course not," his face then broke out in a smile and he told me his name. When he cheerfully asked me mine, I felt myself beginning to blush. I bashfully looked at my feet and told him.

"Are you hungry?" he asked, "I have food." And because of my peasant-like social skills, I eagerly nodded. We went back to the tree and opened his bag of food.

It was filled with some of the strangest, most exotic foods I had ever seen. From meats to vegetables to fruits, it was unlike anything I had ever tasted. And this was the first time I had truly enjoyed sharing a meal with someone.

I asked him why had brought a book to the woods. Books were so expensive and hard to find. They might get dirty.

"What do you mean books are hard to find?" he looked at me quizzically. "In my father's castle, we have thousands of books!"

Castle? What was he saying? I dropped the piece of bread I was eating. "Are…you…a prince?" I asked hesitantly.

"Yes I am!" he laughed. The green-eyed boy proceeded to tell me about his home. About the towers of gold, the floating obelisks, and something about a rainbow-colored bridge. I was a gullible child, completely fascinated by what he was saying. I believed it.

"And my brother says that our father's going to make him king. But I think that I would be a better king than him, my brother just wants to smash things and fight monsters," he told me.

My stomach dropped at that, "Does he want to fight me?" I looked at my legs nervously.

"No, why would he want to fight you? You're not a monster," he said.

I grinned widely at that. He didn't think I was scary! "Do you want to see a trick?" I questioned to which he nodded excitedly. I lifted up my skirt and fused my legs together-mermaid style. The boy clapped enthusiastically and I put my skirt down.

"My parents think I'm a monster," I murmured.

He smiled mischievously, "Then maybe you shouldn't live with your parents anymore…"

I furrowed my brow, confused.

"Come with us back home. You'll get a big room for yourself, we'll have lots of food, and there will be books everywhere! We can play tricks on the servants and I can teach you magic and it'll be so much fun!" although he was shouting happily, there also seemed to be a hint of sadness behind his voice. Almost as though he never had someone to do all of this with before.

It all sounded wonderful. But the thought of his brother wanting to hurt monsters didn't leave my mind. If his brother thought like that, imagine what his parents would be like. "But, your family won't like me," I said.

"What? Of course they'll like you. How could they not?"

_My legs, _I thought to myself.

"Actually, I'll get them over here to introduce them to you. They're going to love you. Stay right here," he scampered to get his family.

The thought of his family finding out about me was terrifying. They were royal after all, what would they do to me? Was this dark-haired boy playing a trick on me?

I never found out. I abandoned my spot and fled back to my village. After that, I never saw him again. Over time, I've been able to convince myself that he lying, he was probably just the son of some local lord. But part of me wonders, what if I had gone with him? Did his home really exist? Would I have lived in a castle? Would I have had a family who accepted me? Would I have a friend in him? After I abandoned him, did he ever try to look for me?

I'll never know. I don't even remember his name.

**A/N: So…this is my first chapter for OFAF. I don't think this story will be as long as the Only Exception but we'll see where it goes. It may seem stupid, but I always try to use the first chapter to tell my character's own story and give you an insight as to what he/she's like. Now, keep in mind that there is something seriously wrong with the way Kat thinks. I am trying to portray her as sympathetically as I can as this story is from her point of view. So please don't report me to the authorities as a psychopath who sets towns on fire. Thanks! I know it's a bit slow, but hey, we have to start somewhere. Please tell me what you think! **


	2. The Awakening

Chapter Two

"Hey, princess. Wake up," Carol is standing over me, already plaguing my morning with her snippy voice. Poor girl, I keep telling her that she'd be ten times prettier if she didn't constantly scrunch her face into a frown. Ironically, this always makes her scrunch her face even more. I swear, some people.

"Yes sir," I say as I lift myself out of bed. Ever since she joined Mr. Bumble's Parade of Freaks ten years ago, the rivalry between us has always existed. Frankly, I don't know how it started. But I certainly don't plan on ending it any time soon and neither does she.

"Oh now, you two hush up and get on in here!" snaps Letty from the kitchen, the enticing smell of sausages is wafting into my room of our trailer.

"'Mornin' sunshine," Letty greets me as Carol and I walk back to the kitchen.

"Hey Let," I stand over her shoulder, hungrily eyeing the sausages. Letty's been part of the Freak Show for over thirty years. She is a tall, husky woman with a West Virginia drawl and fluffy brown beard. Being the Bearded Lady, anyone else usually wouldn't her get near a kitchen. But Letty prides herself as being the best cook east of the Mississippi and as far as I'm concerned, no one can take that title away from her. I've not seen a single hair in any of the food she makes and if there has been any, well, Letty can probably make hair taste good.

"Ta-ta-ta-ta-ta," tuts Carol, slapping my arm lightly, "Bumble says you need to watch your figure. You'll be on my diet for quite a while."

Heat flares in my cheeks, "And why is that?" That's odd, why wouldn't Bumble tell me first?

"He wants to talk about your newest stage persona," Carol gets out the blender and starts making protein shakes for me and her. I grimace, not sure if it's at the milkshake or the Brand-New Stage Identity.

Every now and then, Bumble decides to change up my stage appearance just to shake things up a bit. The disguise I am now in ("Scarlet Harlot"-that's what we all call it anyway) I'm guessing is getting a bit old. It's a shame really, Scarlet Harlot really has been the appearance that resembles me the most. I get to keep my auburn hair, only have to put on a bit of mascara and a form-fitting red dress.

I must say, I've had some worse ones.

Carol slides the mysteriously green shake into two glasses and hands one to me. I stare wistfully at Letty as she settles heartily into her seat with her scrumptious-looking breakfast. Carol quickly gulps down her shake and heads to the bathroom to get dressed.

Once she leaves, Letty quietly slips me a sausage from her plate and winks at me.

Freaks, you gotta love them.

…

"No, Bumble. Come on! It's the 21st century," I protest, "Do you know how much heat we're going to get for that?"

"Oh, Kat. Be a doll and do it. What's wrong with a little old-fashioned?" says Mr. Bumble innocently, his white mustache bobbing on his upper lip and his watery blue eyes pleading like a small child. Mr. Roger Bumble, at ninety plus years old, is still as racially insensitive as he was when I first met him as an ambitious young man. Not racist. Just insensitive. This time, he wants me to take the disguise of "Sheera: the Persian Serpentine Seductress". It's going to involve spray tan, dark hair dye, and belly dancing. I knew what kind of crowd I was getting into when I signed up for this, but this isn't the fifties anymore. This might be bad for business.

"Bumble, most of the guys who go to these shows don't go just once," I retort.

"Sweetheart, you've seen a lot of guys who come here. The frat boys, the druggies, the scumbags who are looking for their fix of bright young things like you. I really don't think they're gonna to care about race issues. And you should know by now why they keep coming to this show. Not to look at the Three-Legged man, not to laugh at the Bearded Lady, not to protest about how freak shows are 'morally wrong' and all of that mumbo-jumbo. They come for you," he tells me, leaning towards me from the other side of his desk.

He has hit my weak spot. I remember the satisfaction I feel whenever the audience whistles and howls, begging for more. It seems a little sad, basing happiness on other people. But there's really no other way for me.

I sigh and open my arms towards him, silently asking for my new equipment. He places a belly dancing costume in my arms along with a box of dark brown hair dye, and a bottle of tanning spray.

"That's all for now, Kat," he smiles. "Now enjoy your last week as Scarlet Harlot. I know you'll give me something great!" I rise from my chair and walk out of the trailer that is his office/living space.

Outside is the camp that the Parade of Freaks has set up on the outskirts of New York City. You could say that it's our headquarters just because it began here and it's usually the place we stay in the longest. Being a travelling show, we tend to not be there for most of the year. I have to say, our camp has a nice view of the city. You can even see the Stark Tower gleaming in the distance.

New York was already hectic enough. But ever since the whole alien attack about a year ago, it has never been the same. The media never revealed much, but from what I had gathered, the aliens had been trying to take over the world. Simple enough plot. How very sci-fi of them. I guess I could have tried to help out. But I was in L.A. at the time. And, well, they didn't require my services. Now that I think about it, I probably wouldn't have been of much use to them. Unless, it was possible to bite aliens at the heel and not be crushed by their foot, I probably wouldn't have helped much. And after the holocaust that I caused almost a thousand years ago, I don't planning on using fire. I would probably burn down all of NYC, then I'd really be in trouble. Here's the thing about the way I work: I don't like to get caught. Not even barbequing a psychotic, power-hungry alien war lord was worth getting caught.

No. For now, I'm fine right here.

As I'm making my way back to my trailer, someone bumps into me, knocking me and all of my stuff to the ground. Once I get my bearings, I realize who it is.

"Penny, are you okay?" I ask, helping the small woman up. She smiles toothily at me and continues chasing her sister. Penny the Pinhead and her four other siblings (Patty, Polly, Posey, and Petey) were all born with a condition called microcephaly. Mr. Bumble billed them as the Pinhead Quintet. Not the most politically correct nickname out there, but they are barely aware of it. All five of them suffer from mental retardation. They are practically children.

One would think that Mr. Bumble would have been one of my victims, but he wasn't.

Like many an Irish person, I came to America in the 1800's. I needed a change of scenery, after all, I had seen nothing but Europe for hundreds of years and it was time to enter the Land of Opportunity. Because I couldn't remember my real name (plus they were probably going to make me change in anyway) I took the name Kathleen O'Malley and set off.

I got myself a small apartment in Brooklyn and settled in, began to grow an American accent, and held a series of odd jobs. Then, after the…Johnny Thing…, I "vacationed" briefly in Germany and returned. I was spent, heartbroken, and desperate. I needed something to lift me up, so when I saw the ads for open spots at Mr. Bumble's Parade of Freaks, I tried out. I showed him what I could do (the snake part, anyway) and, well, here I am. He, in a way, helped me get back on my feet.

He isn't oppressive, in fact, he gives me and the others plenty of freedom, whether they are aware of it or not. While he may not be the most sensitive person out there and people could make the argument that he's exploiting us, he is generally very kind to every one of us. Sure, there's the occasional stinging comment, but I try to ignore any he makes. He's saved us. He accepts outcasts like me and every single freak out there and puts them on a pedestal. He makes people worship and gaze in wonder at them.

And that is why I walk back into my trailer, cradling my new equipment.

I try to look on the bright side. It's better than when I first started out, that's for sure. Bumble billed me as "Abayomi, Cobra Queen of the Congo".I was wearing blackface for heaven's sake.

Not to mention that I don't even turn into a cobra.

…

After shows, I sometimes like to go walking around in whatever city we are staying in. Especially if it's New York. I enjoy the energy and yes, I enjoy the second glances I get from men, but I also love visiting the place I used to live in Brooklyn. Strangely enough, I lived in the apartment just above the now living legend, Steve Rogers. I did him a huge favor once and he didn't even thank me. How very rude.

I take a taxi into Manhattan and simply let my feet take me where they will. They've done exactly that for centuries and tonight is no exception.

I wind up in a rather grimy-looking and eerily empty neighborhood, with dilapidated buildings and the stench of garbage filling the air. For a few minutes there's no sound but the occasional cat meowing and scraps of paper tumbling gently across the street.

I hear something that sounds like a scuffle. It seems to be coming from the alley just ahead of me.

I run over to see what is going on. There, a group of about four men are gathered around a struggling girl. One of them is holding her hands behind her back and clamping her mouth shut. Another takes a knife out of his pocket and slashes the girl's jacket wide open, causing her to squeal and whimper in response.

"Shut her up!" he rasps.

Hatred begins to boil inside of me. I tell myself to transform, but I don't. Instead, a familiar burning sensation begins to prickle in my hands. No, this can't be. I haven't done this for hundreds of years. I haven't dared. But this time, I feel as though I have less control than I did before. As though my own ability is punishing me for suppressing for so long.

Before I realize it, my hands are now bursting with orange flame and I am aiming at the men. The fire surges towards them just as they are looking up to see what is going on. The flame only narrowly misses the girl and she is smart enough to escape from the alley. But I am still struggling to control the flame. The agonizing screams from the men, each of whom are being swallowed slowly by the fire, set me off and my flame catches on one of the buildings. Only then, do I finally manage to put my burning hands out.

For a moment, I watch in horror as the Manhattan sky becomes red from the now smoldering building. I did this. The men in the alley, they deserve their slow, painful death. But the people inside…

A few people rush out, thankfully, the edifice was falling apart-which meant not too many people could have lived there. Okay, that's done. However, I still feel a presence next to me.

The girl from the alley is staring, horrified at the sight before her very eyes. She is holding the remains of her jacket and shirt closely around her body.

Get out of here," I snap.

"B-b-but, how did you-" she stammers.

"GET OUT! NOW!"

The girl gasps and scampers away, with tears streaming down her face.

The reality of what I have just done begins to hit me. The possibility of me getting caught is now a very real one. There may be CCTV cameras watching and even if there aren't, people will be looking into a sudden, suspicious fire that has started in an alley.

I am weak. Vulnerable. I am tied to the stake again…

The threat of vomit rises in my throat at the memory. I begin to run.

The buildings and people whir past me as I move. I don't notice any of it, my priority is getting away. I do notice one woman as I am running, however. She is walking the direction of the fire. She is incredibly curvaceous with short red hair and full, kissable lips. I feel a pang of jealousy. She nods at me and keeps on her way.

Well, she's certainly in for a surprise.

I continue to sprint, going as quickly as my legs can carry me. I run as though a beast is nipping at my heels, never losing track of me now that I have made myself known to it.

For the first time in a long time, I feel truly terrified.

**A/N: I apologize for the lack of Avengers (and Loki) in this chapter. I'm all sorry for all the cryptic things that Kat is saying. Don't worry, all of these will come to light eventually. Here's an important thing about Kat: she's not the most honest person. Not even with herself. And she ****may**** tell you the truth, she may not tell you all of it. Oooooooooooh. Stay tuned and tell me what you think!**


	3. Exposed

Chapter Three

For the next few days, I lock myself in my trailer, trying to come up with a belly dancing routine. Mr. Bumble was kind enough to order a few instructional DVDs for me. I guess it's simple enough, it's better than my Abayomi routine, I can say that. The movement is fluid and supple, much like that of, well, a snake.

The need for a new dance helps to keep me distracted from what occurred only a few nights ago. I barely speak to the other freaks. Only to Letty and (reluctantly) to Carol during meals. I haven't told anyone about what I did, in fact, I'm the only one who knows about my fire-manipulating abilities…to the best of my knowledge. My heart drops when I think about the possibility of someone knowing about it besides the girl who was attacked. I kind of hope that the experience has rendered her too traumatized to speak. And that even if she does speak, that everyone will blow her off as disturbed or crazy.

But for as long as we are in New York, I don't dare go into the city again. I feel as though everyone knows about my deed. I feel it in the way that Letty asks me what I want on my toast, when Carol angrily tells me to put on a sweater, when Mr. Bumble reminds me to keep up the good work. Everything. Although I have to keep reminding myself that it's all in my head, I can't help but sense that somebody knows. This is only the calm before the storm.

And now, all I can do is wait for it to pass…unless, of course, it doesn't.

…

Tonight is the night where the Scarlet Harlot takes her final bow. I stand back to get a full view of myself in the mirror. My auburn hair tumbles sensuously down my bare shoulders and my brown eyes are framed by dark, dramatic makeup. Just as it has for the past seventy years. And funnily enough, I don't look a day over twenty-five. Not bad for someone a few centuries old.

_You can look but you can't touch, _I think to myself as I smooth out my sleek red dress with my glove-clad hands. Carol clears her throat, snapping me out of my trance.

"This mirror doesn't have your name on it," she barks.

I get out of the way just so Carol the Pretzel Girl can see how ridiculous she looks. Mr. Bumble decided to take the whole Pretzel thing literally and has her wear a brown unitard with little white polka dots on it. Take that and Carol's severe face and the result is rather unpleasant.

I leave the room and wait in the wings behind Jamie the Sword Swallower and Sanjay, the Man with the Melted Face. I'm really going to miss this disguise. It's really the first one where Mr. Bumble actually used my name when announcing me onstage. He doesn't even call me the Scarlet Harlot. I'm just Kathleen O'Malley, the Lamia. Nothing more.

Sanjay hobbles offstage and I take a breath.

"And now we present the beautiful, mysterious Lamia, Kathleen O'Malley!" exclaims Mr. Bumble. The crowd roars as I walk onto the stage. As usual, I like to get a feel for my audience, no matter where I'm at. Here in New York, it's the typical frat bro/cradle-robber/nightlife crowd. It's nothing that I'm not already used to.

But there's a group of people here who look extremely out of place.

They are all sitting in the front row. The first person I recognize as being the red-haired woman that bade me good night a few nights ago. Huh, odd. Sitting next to her is a stocky guy with light brown hair. There is also an African-American man with an eye patch; a man with salt-and-pepper colored hair and glasses; a blonde-haired, muscular, almost Viking-like man holding a chain with handcuffs attached to the guy sitting next to him. This man is slender with dark hair and piercing green eyes. Beside him are…Steve Rogers and Tony Stark?

I quickly examine all of them again. A jolt of fear burns through me.

It's the Avengers. I already recognized Rogers and Stark, and the news had mentioned the names Banner and Thor. I assume that Four-Eyes is Banner and Leif Erikson is Thor. But who are the remaining four? I seriously doubt that a group of people so awkward-looking want to attend a freak show.

Why are they here? Do they know about the other night? Is that what the red-haired woman was doing? Spying on me for them? Are they planning to kill me?

Next thing I realize, I am leaning forward. Shit. I manage to stop myself from falling and end up kneeling. The crowd emits a collective gasp. Ah, conveniently enough, I end up kneeling right in front of the green-eyed man.

I tell myself to calm down. I tell myself that I can deal with this after the show. I let my head roll back and close my eyes before gazing sensually at the audience. Finally, they start to release their howls and whistles.

That's more like it. I rise up and begin to tug at the finger of my white glove with my right hand, it slides off. I don't take my eyes off of the audience as I dangle it in front of them before dropping it on the floor. The dance has begun.

I've done this routine so many times, that I usually don't even have to think about it anymore. And before I know it, I am in nothing but my underwear, bra, and stockings. But the fact the Avengers are sitting in front row is still burning inside my mind. And the green-eyed has not broken his gaze once, his face remaining perfectly serious and stoic. My heart is pounding so loudly, I'm sure that everyone in the room can hear it. My breathing is beginning to quicken and a newly-formed sheen of sweat is glistening on my skin. My vision is getting fuzzy and my mind is clouded with dizziness.

"Psst, Kat!" Ron, the stage manager hisses to me from backstage, "Whaddya doing? Don't just stand there!"

It hits me that I've been standing in front of an expectant crowd for a while, not moving, just standing there in my undergarments with a group of people who are after me sitting among said crowd. I am completely vulnerable.

So I revert to one of the most basic instincts of survival: flight.

I scramble off backstage and towards the door to outside, ignoring the scoldings from Ron and Mr. Bumble. I hear a wave of boos roll through the crowd. It stings. I have never been booed at while working at Bumble's. I always thought it was the one place that no one could insult me. I could be untouchable. Guess I was wrong.

I continue running to my trailer, underwear and all, the cool night air making my legs feel uncomfortable.

As soon as I'm inside, I slam the door closed.

"Oh, hey sunshine," says Letty, she is at the stove as usual. Letty is one of the first acts and as soon as she's done, she usually makes Carol, herself, and me dinner, they both have some drinks, and go to bed. Tonight, however, she wants to celebrate my last night as Scarlet Harlot so she's making her famous spaghetti for everyone. It's a shame I won't be eating any of it.

I stride over to my room, rummage through my drawers and find a duffle bag. I immediately begin stuffing it with everything I need. Clothes, durable shoes, my toothbrush. I go to kitchen and look in the cabinets, I find nuts, dried fruit, a few cans of beans, and several bottles of water.

"Kat, what on God's green earth are ya doin'?" asks Letty, steam from the boiling pasta billowing in her face. She gives me a start. I had forgotten she was here.

I slow my breathing back to a normal rate, "I am going on a little trip."

Letty purses her lips, "Well, I guess since you'll be on your little camping trip I ain't allowed to shared kitchen-made food with you. Tsk, tsk. Don't worry, you can come back for breakfast tomorrow."

Very funny, Letty. For all I know, I may not come back for breakfast. I may not come back ever. Not if I get…

As if right on cue, Carol comes bursting into the trailer.

"Guys, did you see who was in the audience?" she wheezes.

"The Avengers? 'Course I saw 'em," answers Letty. I drop my knife. "How could you miss 'em? 'Specially that bearded hunk of a man, Thor. Hm-mm-mm."

I release shrill squeak and dash back to my bedroom.

"Kat! Child, what's wrong with you? Look at yourself, you're sweatin' like a sinner in church!" Letty calls to me.

"She's just being an attention whore, as usual," sneers Carol. The only thing keeping me from strangling her for saying that is the fact that I need to pack. I am able to pack the clothes that were spilling out back in and I jam the food and water in as well. The problem is that the duffel bag is massive with all of my supplies inside of it. It looks like a sausage with an allergic reaction.

My ears perk up at the sudden noise of excited voices outside.

"What the hell is goin' on out there?" asks Letty.

"I'll go check," says Carol. I gulp. I walk to the kitchen window to see what is happening. I have to bite my fist to keep myself from screaming. The Avengers and the green-eyed man are on our campsite, being crowded by the freaks.

"Kat?" I hear Ricardo, the three-legged man, say, "Yeah, she's in that trailer over there!" He points in the direction of our trailer and they begin making their way over.

"Shit!" I hiss. I sweep out of the kitchen and into my room.

"Kat, I'm about to slide some Benadryl down your throat. There is somethin' seriously wrong-OH MY SWEET LORDY BE! The Avengers are comin' into our trailer" gushes Letty. Good, maybe Thor-obsessed Letty can stall them.

In my room, there is a very tiny window that faces away from camp. If I can get my duffel bag through it, I can then turn into a snake and escape. I lift the bag and position it in front of the window. It fits at first, then it stops moving.

Panicked, I push and strain, trying to get the bag through. I give up and decide that I should pull it out. Screw the supplies. I need to escape. But the bag doesn't budge.

My hair is practically drenched with sweat and my hands are prickly with anxiety. There's no point in drying to get the bag out, it isn't going anywhere.

There's only one last thing I can do. I dart under my bed.

"Kat! What the hell are you doing under your bed? The Avengers are comin' into OUR trailer!" she smoothes out her beard.

I ignore her and think about the possibilities. I have a good view of the front door from my spot. I try to start forming a plan of attack. I could bite their feet. I could bite Tony Stark's foot easily. Wait, no I can't, Stark is smarter than that. He probably has some way of getting his Ironman suit on even here. I can't attack Rogers because he could probably crush me with his foot. Thor would DEFINITELY crush me with his foot. And Banner? I don't even want to think about trying to bite him. I'm assuming that the woman, the brown-haired guy, and the African American man are assassins of some sort. Wonderful.

If I have the Avengers and those other people, then who is the man in handcuffs? I doesn't really matter. Right now, he seems like the easiest target. I'll have to take my chances.

The door creaks open. I hold my breath. Would they dare kill me in front of Letty and Carol?

"Oh, happy day! Hello, everyone!" clucks Letty. "It is just such an honor to have all of you inside my trailer! I have to thank you all so much for-"

"You're very kind, ma'am," the African-American man cuts her off. "I don't mean to be rude, but we need to speak to Ms. O'Malley."

"Speak" huh? I'm biting my lip so hard that it is about to bleed.

"Oh, I see. Y'all wanna meet her. Why she's under that there bed!" Letty points to my room. "Yoo-hoo! Kat, get outta there, you've got some very fine-looking men who want to meet you!" They all start walking to my room. My heart is pounding so loudly I can hear it. I can now see their shoes nice and clearly.

"Oh come on, now honey. There's no need to be shy," she coaxes me, "you were walkin' 'round that stage practically naked just a few minutes ago. In fact, I haven't seen you put on a shirt or pants since you walked in here." Thanks, Letty. Thank you so very, very much. "I'm real sorry, everyone. She's not usually like this."

I feel Letty's meaty hands clamp around my ankles.

No. Please don't do this, Letty.

She pulls me out from under, props me up and pushes me over to them.

"Here's our lovely little lady," Letty presents me. I look to her with pleading eyes. "Oh, Kat don't be silly. By the way, you have a few dust bunnies in your hair. I guess I'm gonna have to make some more spaghetti but you know, the more the merrier. Well, y'all have fun!" And with that, she leaves.

I am alone; in a bra, panties, and stockings; with a duffel bag stuck in my window; and in front of a group of people who are probably ready to kill me.

This is going to be fun.

**A/N: F*ck yeah cliffies! And this chapter had an instance of her kneeling to the God of Mischief (Ooh-la-LA). Haha, once again thank you so much for the follows and favorites. Please, please take 20 seconds out of your day to leave me a review. It makes me happy. Like I've said, give me reviews and I'll give you chapters. Thanks! ;)**


	4. Taking Chances

Chapter Four

My breath is caught in my throat. The front of my body is prickly from the rug burns I have just gotten. I feel as though if I open my mouth, the only thing that will come out is vomit. What lovely imagery.

_Focus, Kat, _I tell myself. _Handle this how you always have. It always works in your favor. Let's face it, it's one of the few things you're actually good at. So just do it. _

I brush the dust bunnies out of my hair, clear my throat, and smile warmly.

"Look, everyone. I know you enjoyed the show but I don't do bachelor parties, weddings, bar mitzvahs, or any of the above so-"

"We're not here to make any party arrangements, Ms. O'Malley," snaps Eye Patch. Okay, I'm getting a chilly reception here. I think of something else.

"Right! Of course, you want autographs!" I swallow faintly. "I think I have some paper…" I stumble over to my nightstand. Not finding any notepad (and not wanting to tear apart my still-unfinished copy of _The Other Boleyn Girl_), I pull out a pen and the Bible that Carol gave me a few Christmases ago and rip out a couple of pages. Rogers flinches.

"Ms. O'Malley, stalling us isn't going to work," booms Eye Patch. I stop signing my autograph for Tony Stark and look up at them.

"Allow me to introduce myself," he continues, "I'm Nick Fury, head of SHIELD. This is Natasha Romanoff, Clint Barton," he motions to the woman and the man with light brown hair, "And I'm sure you're already familiar with the four Avengers. The reason we're here is to recruit you," He doesn't mention the man in the handcuffs, who is standing away from the group looking bored. Even though he's further away, he's still a pretty easy target. I realize my hands are shaking when the pen I'm holding begins to scratch black scribbles all over the Bible page.

I try to make my laughter sound as genuine as possible. "Recruit me? So am I an official entertainer for the Avengers now?"

"In my dreams," responds Tony, winking at me, I smile weakly at him.

"Earth is under the threat of being invaded once again and this time, possibly destroyed. We need you to come in," explains Natasha, "We'll be debriefing you on the way to headquarters."

"I'm sorry, so you want me to seduce them to death?" I giggle airily. My head is throbbing with pain and I'm beginning to wonder if they are noticing that I am dripping with perspiration.

"I've already told you that stalling won't work, what makes you think playing dumb is going to?" inquires Fury.

I gulp, "I'm sorry, Mr. uh, Fury. I really d-don't understand." I know that there is no point in trying to convince them that they have it wrong, but I'm trying to hold to the last shred of hope that if I try hard enough, they'll believe me and leave me alone once and for all.

"Stark, show her the footage," orders Fury.

"Will do, Patchy," says Stark as he produces a tablet from the brief case he was holding. How did I not notice that? Stark fiddles around with the tablet before handing it to me.

A video of the other night is playing. There I am, starting the fire with the men in the alley and the girl running out.

"How did you find this?" I whisper.

"We have our ways," says Natasha. I glance at her menacingly. "We were also investigating some other unusual deaths. Starting back in 2010 when a man was found dead in his apartment in the Lower East Side. He appeared to have been bitten by a snake, but that's not what killed him. No, his neck was broken. And what's even more unusual was that the finger prints on him were almost scale-like."

I know exactly who she is talking about. That man was beating his young daughter so badly, I could hear the thud of her body being slammed against the wall and her haunting screams from outside the building. No one seemed to notice (or care) so I slithered up, bit him, and broke his neck nicely. The poor girl was too disoriented and bloodied up to even notice. Only then did the neighbors call 911. I quickly fled the scene. That bastard deserved every bit of what I gave him.

"That wasn't the only incident, we eventually began to find cases of other deaths like that one," states Fury.

"Alabama, 1962," lists Stark. A group of skinheads was about to lynch a black man near the fair grounds at which we were performing. Those inbred dumbshits could've at least chosen a better spot. I ended up making short work of them.

"Germany, 1940," says Romanoff. My heart surges uncomfortably at that. I went to Germany and took out every officer running a concentration camp. I had also killed the highest ranking officer's family, who lived close to the camp. The German government did everything they could to cover that one up. That killing spree was after…

"Then there was also the murder of a man named John-," begins Fury.

"Okay, I get it. I get it," I rasp, dropping the tablet.

"GAH! That's expensive!" Stark cries as he dives to the floor to retrieve it. I shoot an annoyed look at the billionaire.

Fury turns to me, "That concentration camp case was something that intrigued all of us. You could have easily killed Hitler. Yet you didn't. Why is that?" I notice that Steve is now eagerly listening.

I ponder on this for a moment. I have my reasons, I might as well tell them. I breathe slowly, push a sweaty lock of hair out of my face, and lock eyes with them.

"Here's the thing about the way I work," I start, "and you'll find that a lot criminals strive to do this too. When I kill, I don't like to get caught. And killing the Fuhrer? Seems a bit conspicuous, don't you think?"

"But you murdered all of those officers and one of their families," says Rogers earnestly.

"Gee, Cap'n," I say darkly, "I thought that you of all people would be thanking me for eliminating some mini-Nazis. But back to what you said. No one was going to care if I killed a bunch of nameless officers. A lot of people didn't even know about concentration camps until the war was over. Now if I would have killed Hitler, the whole world would be in uproar. Uproar means publicity on him and on the killer. It would not have been good for me. Plus, his security was pretty tight and snakes don't usually make it when their heads are cut off.

"You have to understand that every man in that camp that I killed was weak. Every Nazi was weak, and they felt that turning to this militaristic maniac would help them. When they began to destroy the world, I decided to step in. I would kill the forgotten soldiers and then watch Hitler's 'empire' cave in on itself. You see, to build something great, you have to have a strong foundation. And if the foundation is weak, the building crumbles. I know this from experience. I've watched so many civilizations fall and sometimes, it was because of me." That was probably the most coherent expression of how I work I had ever given, granted nobody had ever asked me before.

All of them are silent for a moment. The green-eyed man is staring at me again, he appears to be rather intrigued.

Fury clears harrumphs, "Anyway, as we've said, the world is under the threat of invasion and we need you to help."

"What if I refuse?" I counter him.

"Then we'd more than willing to turn you over to the FBI," he answers.

My eyes widen, "What?"

"Miss O'Malley, your crimes in Germany alone are enough to land you in federal prison."

"What I did was an act of war!" I say.

"For it to have been an act of war, you would have to be a soldier or a spy and you are neither of those. You crossed into another country illegally and killed numerous people. Some of whom were innocent," replies Fury sharply.

"They weren't innocent," I growl. _No, they weren't. You tell them, Kat._

"Miss O'Malley, you have to give us answer and it has to be soon. Will you join or no?" warns Fury.

I feel heat rising to my cheeks and a rush of anger swelling inside of me. My face contorts as I release a shriek that rattles the entire trailer. I feel my legs and arms fuse together as I lunge at the person who looks as though he has his guard down the most. The green-eyed man.

I am quickly proven wrong. Just as I am about to sink my fangs into his face, he catches me just behind my head. I writhe in his grip, hissing and spitting venom.

"Ah, we almost forgot. Miss O'Malley, meet Loki. Loki as in the homicidal alien who almost took over the entire planet last year," I hear Stark say shakily. I am still struggling in his grasp; after one of my fangs barely brushes his nose, Loki tightens his grip.

Now, I am having a hard time breathing. Loki's cool hands already feel uncomfortable against my scales and my body is beginning to prickle with pain. My throat is closing off, my ears are ringing, and black spots are dotting my vision.

"Let her go, brother," commands Thor.

Loki doesn't let go, he keeps his grip and green, hate-filled eyes bore into mine. So this is the face of an oppressor up close. I want to kill him. Would the others even care? They didn't seem to, why should I? I could paralyze him and then break his neck. Granted that he doesn't break mine first. The pressure in my head is becoming unbearable, only wisps of air are making it through my throat and my tail is whipping around as I try to wriggle out. I feel as though a vertebra is about to crack. I feel my eyes beginning to close.

"Let her go!" thunders Thor. Loki finally lets me go, dropping me at his feet. I transform only arms, shoulders and into a human form. My snake tail covers the rest of me-almost like a strapless dress. As soon as I do, I inhale the precious air, cherishing the cool, smooth feeling it has on my throat. I look up to Loki's face. The corners of his mouth are curled upwards in a cruel smile. For some reason I feel extremely exposed in front of him. Maybe it's because I am practically naked (highly unlikely though, I get naked in front of men almost every night). Maybe it's because I'm in a very questionable position at his feet once again.

I take notice of the Avengers. Fury and Natasha have pistols pointed at me. Barton is positioning a bow and arrow at my heart. Rogers has his fists up and ready, Stark has on two gray bracelets that he's holding up, Thor is holding a giant rectangular hammer in his hand, and Loki still has that evil grin on his face. The rest of them all look completely disgusted by me.

I scoot away from him and lift myself onto the bed, staring warily at all of them.

"So that explains the fingerprints…" Natasha has her nose crinkled in obvious revulsion. After a few moments of silence, everyone is recollected and Fury straightens up.

"Very interesting talent you have there," says Fury calmly. "If you join us, you will learn how to control your power and be able to use it against the enemy without burning the whole state down."

"And that's where Reindeer Games comes in," Stark grins at Loki, who rolls his eyes.

"Excuse me?" I say at the same time.

"That's right, Daenerys Targaryen. Meet your magic teacher," announces Stark.

"That one?" I point to Loki. They can't be serious, he just tried to kill me.

"Yes, I…regret to say that I am your teacher," says Loki coolly. This is the first time he has spoken.

"Loki's here for his reasons and I'm sure you two can discuss it during your lessons," barks Fury. "We're offering you a chance. And if you take it, you could help save the world."

Saving the world from an alien invasion? That sounded silly for me. That was for the Avengers or sci-fi characters. But me? Saving the _entire _world? "What's in it for me?" I ask, crossing my arms.

"Keeping your home planet?" suggests Fury. "Not going to prison. Of course, if money will be incentive for you to join, I'll-"

"I have enough money. Is there anything else?" I press.

"We don't usually make agreements like this but if you do this, we can clear your record. All the information we have on things you've done, gone," Fury offers.

"Not to mention eternal glory," adds Loki. His voice is flowing, rich, and smooth, like melted chocolate. "Come now, you aren't going to pretend you don't crave it with every fiber of your being. You, Kathleen, would be hailed as a hero for all time. You would be a goddess walking among the earth. People will be falling over themselves to be near your magnificence. You would be accepted, loved, glorified. And all you have to do is join us." His smile softens, but there is still hint of dark mischief in his eyes. As though he knows something about me the others don't. And he does.

"Yeah," agrees Stark, "What he said."

How did he get to my weakness so easily? Is he a mind reader too? The way he was able to tell me exactly what I wanted to hear is making me shiver. I can't resist. Sure, the possibility of me getting to destroy some domineering terrorists or aliens or whoever it is this time is appealing, and I am rather thankful that I'm not going to jail. But Loki somehow knew what I wanted.

I sigh, "I'll do it."

"Good. Remember, you'll receive a debriefing package on the way to headquarters. Any other questions?" asks Fury.

I shake my head and look at the duffel bag-filled window, "Well, it looks like I'm already packed."

I hear footsteps padding in the hallway. Neither Letty or Carol know that I can turn into a snake. They assume that I was born with a deformity or that I have a skin disease. I've never really told them and I want to keep it that way. I grab the sheet from the bed and cover myself as I turn my legs into "human" ones.

Carol comes bursting in, "I heard noise-". She looks at me hiding my naked body and rests her forehead on her palm. "Okay, everybody OUT! Right now. This is a freak show, not a brothel. MOVE IT."

"Yes, I apologize. Let's move, everyone," commands Fury. Carol scowls at all of them as they shuffle out before looking at me. "And Kat, for the love of God, PUT ON SOME CLOTHES!" With that, she storms out, pushing Banner and Rogers in the process.

I'm thinking that I should go out naked just to spite her.

Thor and Loki are the last ones in the room.

"Loki, come along," orders Thor tugging at the chain. Loki finally tears his gaze away from me and follows his brother out.

…

The Avengers looked uncomfortable enough dressed up formally and sitting in a crowd of drunken frat boys from NYU. Now they look even more so, planted around a bonfire and eating bowls of spaghetti in the midst of a bunch of loud, obnoxious circus freaks.

Letty is sidling up to Thor and flirtatiously telling him about how she hasn't had a bearded man in her trailer since "Good ol' Cletus McGuffin". This is happening all while he is trying to smile back at her through a mouth full of pasta. Jameso, the strong man, is asking Banner and Rogers what their muscle-building secrets are. Fury is arguing with Bumble about my departure for the next few months. Bumble is so livid that I think even his mustache is turning red. Natasha and Barton are huddled together, quietly talking amongst themselves and Stark is in the middle of being interrogated by Carol. Poor man.

Loki is sitting all alone by one of trailers, not touching his food.

For a moment, I feel the urge to get up from my spot and keep him company. Then my neck begins to pulse with pain from where his fingers have been. I figure that it's probably not the best idea.

Suddenly Henry, the Half-boy begins to strike up a tune on his fiddle. Freida, the armless girl starts playing the bongos with her feet. Henrietta the Bird Girl stands on a crate.

"To the Avengers for saving this city!" she cries, "And to our very own Kathleen O'Malley, representing freaks everywhere!" The freaks howl loudly as I answer them with a prideful smile.

Sweet little Penny, who loves to dance, is now grabbing everyone's hands and leading them around the bonfire in a spiral. She throws me into the circle and I spin around to humor her, the hem of my white sundress fluttering around my legs. Penny squeals and claps her hands in delight. She then walks over to the Avengers and tries to get them to join, but they all refuse her. I study their expressions. They seem to be almost…repulsed by all of this.

She shrugs their rejection off and begins to skip towards Loki. No. There is no way that this can end well. I start to jog towards them.

Penny grabs Loki's hand and he snatches it away from hers. She frowns, takes it again, and begins to pull it, "DANCE! DANCE! DANCE!"

A now enraged Loki rises to his feet. "Get away from me, you hideous creature!" he roars. He raises his hand to hit her.

His cold hand meets my cheek instead with a painful SMACK as I push Penny out of the way. Penny is now a crumpled heap on the ground. Biting my lip, I get down next to her.

"Pen, are you all right?" I ask her, my cheek is still burning with the imprint of Loki's hand.

She sits up and points accusingly at him, "The mean man tried to hurt me."

"I know he tried to hurt you, now go dance," I tell her.

"But-" she protests.

"Go Pen. If you do, I'll get you an extra slice of chocolate cake," I bribe her. She grins at me and her trouble with Loki is quickly forgotten. She frolics her way back to the group of oblivious dancers.

I don't take my eyes off of Loki as I stand up. The tension between us is almost tangible. I hate him. I haven't known him for even an hour and I already loathe him. For trying to enslave people. For trying to kill me. For trying to hurt a defenseless woman with the mind of a child.

"I have nothing to say to you," I seethe.

Loki raises his eyebrows wryly, "And wouldn't expect anything else from a mortal."

"I'm not a mortal," I hiss.

"Ah, yes. You're just another one of these sickening freaks," that cruel smile of his returns. "You're practically nothing."

I want to kill him, but I know it is useless. Whether I transform or burn him. If I release my flame, I'll end up burning the entire grounds.

_That can't happen now, can it?_ I think bitterly.

So I back away from him and fall back into the circle of dancing freaks. I throw myself into movement, spinning, pirouetting, twirling. I let my hair form a delicious corona of waves around my head and my legs glide upon the dusty ground. I am trying to prove to Loki, to all of them, that I don't care if they are disgusted by us. But the more that I let his words wash over my mind, the more they begin to sink in.

**A/N: So here is another chapter. In this one you kind of get a glimpse of Kat's twisted way of thinking. With school starting for me, I don't know how often I'll be updating, but I will try my best. Please tell me what you think and not only will I give you chapters, but I will also give you virtual Nutella. :D **


	5. New Life, New Pain, New Game

Chapter Five

"Don't worry, Pen," I console her as she buries her head in my chest. "I won't be gone for very long." I've been saying goodbye to everyone for the past thirty minutes and Penny returned for her seventh hug. I wrap her in a final squeeze and turn to Letty.

She smiles sadly and hands me a folded piece of paper. "I thought you might need it for later," she says. I unfold the paper.

"Letty! You shouldn't have!" I gasp.

"Oh now hush, honey. I've got it practically memorized. It's all in there," she taps her head. Letty has given me her recipe for her celebrated chocolate chip cookies. She knows I need them, especially during my time of the year…

I ignore Letty's body odor as I throw my arms around her. I feel a hole in my chest as I think about how much I'm going to miss her.

"You won't let us down. I know you won't," she whispers. Tears begin to prickle the corners of my eyes and I give her a final glance.

Finally, I stand in front of Mr. Bumble, who is angrily looking up at me. "Listen, Kat. I understand that you're gonna have to go and all. But you're the real money maker in this place. If I begin to lose money, I'm gonna have no trouble replacing you, understand?" he snaps.

I smile breezily at him, "Of course, boss. I'll be back before you even start missing me." I plant a short peck on his wrinkly forehead and automatically his cheeks turn a soft shade of pink.

"We're ready to leave, Miss O'Malley. You should be too," Fury's voice cuts me out of my farewell mood. Between Barton and Rogers, my sausage duffel bag is being hauled to the parking lot where Stark's limo is.

I roll my eyes and blow kisses to all of the freaks as I follow the rest of the Avengers out. I am frightened. I will have to be living with the very people who practically showed their disgust with me for the next few months. Loki's words echo in my mind again. _"Sickening Freak" _is what he said. And while the rest of them haven't actually said it to my face, I know that they're thinking it. I just know it.

But I don't want them to. I want them to see that what I'm doing is for the good of others, those people were cruel and deserved to die. Each of them had killed people, why should they judge me? Even St. Steve Rogers had taken a few. I just get a little more satisfaction out of taking lives that should not go on. Is that really so bad?

Evidently it is.

After following Rogers, Barton, and Fury to the limo, Rogers politely tells me to go in before him.

One side of the limo is filled up by Banner, Stark, Natasha, and Thor. Sitting across from Thor is Loki. Well, it's good to know that the universe is on my side this week.

_Just smile and endure it, Kat, _I think to myself as I slide into the dark inside of the limo. I make sure that a few inches separate me and Loki. Rogers sits next to me, followed by Barton and Fury.

I feel something soft and light hit my lap. It is a manila folder.

"This is has everything you need to know. Make sure you read it," says Natasha firmly.

As soon as I open the folder, the car takes off toward the direction of the city. A sudden sweep of sleepiness begins to take hold of me as I am greeted with the stream of large, complicated words printed on the paper.

I hear nothing but the soft hum of the car as I try to swallow the words on the paper, it's almost as if they're waiting for me to understand it in order to confirm that I'm not stupid.

What if that's what they're thinking?

I try to concentrate on the information, but it's just turning into a blur. I have to get this. I have to. Loki's presence next to me is consuming my mind. I can hear the gentle rise and fall of his breath and see his long, slender fingers tapping his knee. A hot blush creeps up to my cheeks at the thought of his hands. I am thankful that the limo is dimly lit. I couldn't understand what was wrong with me. My mind was so foggy with sleep yet at the same time, it was panicking. I didn't know I could feel those two things at the same time.

I couldn't focus on the data anymore. Not with him and not with my barely conscious brain.

"What time is it?" I blurt out, breaking the stillness in the car.

"It's 4:30 AM," says Natasha. No wonder, I never stay up this late. "Do you have any questions so far?"

"No," I lie. Drowsiness is evident in my answer. It is taking all of my strength to keep my eyelids apart.

"You know you don't have to read this tonight," she tells me.

I emit a small giggle. "Don't be silly…" are the last words I hear myself say before darkness envelopes me and my head rolls onto Loki's shoulder.

…

I wake up a little while later and am only able to see my surroundings through blurry slits. All of the voices sound disembodied and distant. The world around me is black and bursting with light at the same time.

Is that even possible?

In my haze, I am only able to recognize one sleek, silver voice.

"Just get this vile thing off of me," grumbles Loki.

I am lifted into someone's arms and carried out into a place where I am greeted with more light. I shield my eyes to it and slip into the depths of unconsciousness with a final thought.

I am not even a person to him.

…

I wake up to a pristine white ceiling. My heart leaps to my throat before I remember where I am.

Well, I really don't know where I am. I'm assuming that this is SHIELD's headquarters, wherever it is. I sit up and observe. This bedroom is small but rather nice. The walls and bed sheets are all cream-colored. The wide window is covered by a sheer curtain, allowing sunlight to gently pour into my room. There is a large abstract blue painting hanging on the wall and my nightstand has a little vase with an orchid in it.

When I finally manage to tangle myself out of the sheets, I go exploring my new living space. Next to the painting is an open door that leads to a bathroom complete with a shower, toilet with an overhead flush, a marble sink, a closet, and a…bidet?

It all seems a bit opulent for a spy organization.

I look at my reflection in the mirror of the bathroom. My face is smeared with the makeup that I forgot to take off the night before, my hair is greasy from my sweat fest, and my formerly clean sundress is now reeking of…well, eau de Kat.

My bag is patiently sitting against the closet door and I rummage for a tank top, some sweat pants (god forbid that I scare the other workers), and a change of underwear. I scrub the cakey layer of makeup off of my face and brush my teeth.

This is about as good as it's gonna get for today.

I venture quietly out of my room and am greeted by a wide hallway. I keep padding gently and am startled by what I see.

It looks as though I am in a penthouse. There is a spacious kitchen, a living room and a bar. What is this place?

"Good morning, Miss," says a voice.

I yelp girlishly.

"The time is 9:27 AM, the weather is 80 degrees and partly cloudy" the voice continues.

"Who are you?" I whisper-screech.

"Ah, I see you've met Jarvis," says another voice, this one being female. What is it with voices coming out of nowhere?

I whip around, coming face to face with a slender, graceful and now confused-looking strawberry blonde. I realize it's because I look ready to pounce on someone, my hands are already positioned to claw someone's eyes out.

"Whoa, don't attack me," she says, before extending a hand to me. "You must be Kathleen. I'm Stark's assistant, Virginia Potts."

I take a breath. "Call me Kat," I tell her, shaking her hand.

"Then in that case, call me Pepper," she smiles.

I grin faintly, "I know this is going to sound like an odd question, but where am I?"

"It's not an odd question. You were fast asleep when they brought you in. You're in Stark Tower."

Stark Tower? As in the huge building that I can see from my trailer. _That _one? This has to be a dream. Wait. That must've meant she…

"So you saw my legs," I whisper.

"Kat, I can see your feet right now, even with those pants," she says. She simply acts as though my legs were nothing. I am in shock.

I suck in another breath, "Is this really SHIELD's headquarters?"

Pepper gives me a look, "Of course not. This is, however, the Avengers headquarters."

Avengers? Really? It can't be. "So…does that mean I'm part of the team?" I inquire, almost desperately.

"From what I understood, more like 'assisting'," she replies. "But, I'm not in charge. I just work here. Is there anything else I can help you with?"

"Nope," I huff, pressing my hands to my hips.

"Well, come and get some breakfast. I'll brew some more coffee, in the meantime, help yourself to absolutely anything," she motions to the kitchen.

"Thank you," I say softly. Huh, she seems friendly enough. Pepper shows me where everything is and then sets to making the coffee. I hear heavy footsteps coming into the kitchen.

"Good morning, Lady Potts," Thor booms happily, "And Lady Kathleen of Malley."

This is my chance. Might as well try to turn the likability on. "Lady? I could get used to that," I chirp. He seems a bit surprised at my words but he gives me a dimpled grin. Okay, we're making a bit of progress.

"Hello Thor, don't worry I've got some coffee going. And the Pop Tarts are in the pantry," announces Pepper. Thor strides over and opens the pantry door.

"Lady Kathleen, would you care for some 'Popped Tarts'?" he takes out the Pop Tarts box. I suppress a laugh at this. I would absolutely love some. Oh, Letty, please forgive me. She would have a heart attack if she knew that I was eating that "nasty-ass plastic food".

Just as I'm about to ask him to make it double, Loki shuffles into the kitchen.

"No thanks, Thor," I say. No doubt, Loki will take shots at me for overindulging. Instead, I grudgingly grab for the box of Cheerios. I quietly snicker as I notice that he is wearing a Batman T-shirt as a pajama.

"Brother, would you like some of these?" Thor waves a packet.

"No," Loki says irately and goes to sit uprightly on the couch. Thor shrugs his rudeness off and proceeds to put his ration of Pop Tarts in the toaster. Pepper also ignores Loki as she places a steaming mug of coffee on the table in front of him.

"Where is everybody?" I ask her, trying to diffuse the tension that Loki has been so kind as to cook up.

"Steve, Natasha, and Clint have been in the gym since six; and Tony and Bruce are in the lab right now. That leaves you three," she answers, handing me my own coffee. Ah, the three non-mortals.

Thor's pop tarts jump out of the toaster with a DING! and he sits at the counter next to me.

I can feel Loki's eyes on my back. His being there bearing on my mind the way it did the previous night. After a few mushy, plain bites of Cheerios, I turn around on my stool to face Loki.

"So, Professor," I draw out sweetly. "What are we learning today?"

Loki gives me a hard look, "We certainly won't be learning how to lie about wanting to eat something because of the fear that someone will insult your figure and/or eating habits. Both of which, in fact, are in need of improvement."

"Loki!" Thor barks.

My spoon falls with a metallic clatter on the counter. I feel as though he has slapped me in the face for a second time. The silence in the room is deafening.

"Thor!" says Pepper. "More coffee?"

"Yes please," he says.

"Kat?" she offers, even though my mug is completely full.

"No…" my voice trails off. Loki lifts himself from the couch and goes back to his bedroom to get dressed for our first lesson. For once I notice the thick iron band around his ankle. Very interesting.

"Lady Kathleen, I apologize on behalf of my brother," says Thor sincerely.

"You don't have to," I murmur. Loki's insult while seems silly, hurts.

Well, if that's how he wants to run things, with pain, I'm flexible. If he's going to hurt me, I'm going to hurt him back…somehow. I'm going to have a little fun with him.

"So, Thor. Tell me about we're you're from," I begin, "Wasn't it Asgard that you mentioned?"

**A/N: Meh, not really proud of this chapter. The little that there was of Loki was him being an asshole, and Kat is at it again with the cryptic things. But at least you get a teeny-weeny glimpse of Kat's more sinister side (MWAHAHAHAHA!) and her desperation too. Please leave a comment and more virtual Nutella will be coming to you. :D**


	6. A Dance With the Devil

Chapter Six

I anxiously pick at the skin on my chapped lips as I wait for Loki in our practice room. It is a whole large section of the tenth floor of Stark Tower set up just for us with two burly, armed guards stationed at the door. The walls, floor, and ceiling are all covered with some sort of fireproof material just in case something goes wrong (and it probably will). The thought of Loki's pants catching fire makes me feel a little better, but not much.

Unfortunately, I wasn't able to weasel too much information out of Thor. It started off as talking about the grand Asgardian feasts and events, eventually it led to him talking about his greatest heroic deeds and hunting trips in other "realms". I make a mental note to myself to read up on Norse mythology, there had to be some truth that inspired those legends. Maybe Loki has a girlfriend…or not. I could definitely work with that.

I give a start at the sound of the door cranking open.

Loki strides in, still managing to move gracefully even with that heavy-looking band clamped around his ankle. I take a breath and flash a radiant smile at him.

He furrows his brow as he looks down at me, "Why are you smiling like that?"

"Why wouldn't I? It's exciting to be taught by someone who knows magic. A prince no less," I make sure that I coat my voice with all the sugar I can muster.

"And don't you forget it," he growls. For a moment his lips seem to twitch into a pleased smile, and then he continues to glare at me. "Get up from floor. You already look the part of a harlot, you do not need be in the same position of one as well."

I don't waver, I just blink up at him innocently, "Whatever you say…" I rise and look him in the eye, "your Highness."

"And unless you are a complete cretin, although that is quite a possibility, you know that spreading your legs for him will not work."

"Spread my legs for who?" I say without thinking before clapping my hand over my mouth. Fantastic, now he will be able to confirm that I am in fact a…"cretin"? Seriously, what is this? The 1600's?

"You've agreed to save this miserable excuse for a world and you know not who your enemy is?" he wonders.

Of course. I had forgotten to go through the folder Natasha had given me last night. That would have explained everything and would have helped me look, well, _not as _stupid in front Prince Stick-Up-His-Ass.

I find myself shaking my head to his question.

"Just when I thought Midgardians like you couldn't be any dimmer," he spits, his voice dripping with revulsion.

"Hey," I pout as I saunter up to him, "I'm new to this. Give me a break." It is startling how close I am to him now. The cool air that constantly surrounds him is softly caressing me, leaving gooseflesh in its wake. I stare above into his cruel emerald eyes, even though I am of average height, he is so tall that I still have to look up at him.

I lower my voice, "And now that we're here, you might as well tell me what you can."

"I suppose I'll do what I can as a member of a higher form of life to help a creature as lowly and dim-witted as yourself," he grins.

"And that's what you're here for," I flounce, falling gently against him, my hip brushing his leg, "to help me. You're the teacher, teach me."

"Get away from me," he snaps and peels me off of him. "I feel filthy enough being in the same room with you." Loki just keeps driving a knife into the wound. My palms are prickling the familiar, delicious heat again.

Loki's chilly voice cuts like ice through the wall of heat when he suddenly launches into an explanation of who the enemy is. In between his Shakespearean vocabulary and his subtle insults, I gather that the name of the enemy was called Thanos. He was born on Titan as one of the Eternals. Thanos became fascinated with death, often referring to it as a lady. Loki takes a disgruntled breath before explain how he had promised Thanos the Tesseract in return for an army. When that failed, Thanos decided that trying to conquer humans would be to court death. And Thanos clearly has a soft spot for that.

Wait. Loki and failure? That could be useful.

"Yes, well, I hope he sees that we earthlings are harder to kill then he thinks-something I'm sure you've already figured," I smirk, slightly wary that I have ventured into dangerous waters.

"I would watch your tongue if I were you," he begins to stalk towards me. His shadow begins to cover my body as the next thing my back meets is the padded wall. I don't break my gaze from him for a second. I can't let him see me weak again, I refuse to let him know how truly frightened I am.

"Because," he continues, "He is not merciful to those who oppose him. And neither. Am. I." His frigid hand grabs my throat and I am lifted high into the air. My legs kick around helplessly as I desperately try to pry his long fingers off of my neck. Overwhelming pains shoots and throbs through my body. My mouth keeps on flapping open, attempting to inhale even the slightest bit of forgiving air.

"Fight back, you stupid girl. This is the lesson, use your fire. Fight back!" he commands. Warmth flushes through my arms and legs, I can feel my skin turning crimson. I let out a strangled cry as Loki suddenly drops me and runs.

I am too late to get him. Fire roars out of my arms and the room explodes with orange light but all to no avail. The flame spreads along the walls before disappearing completely. And of course, Loki isn't harmed at all.

The only one affected is me. My flesh is tingling with the aftermath and my clothes are singed. I am shaking with not with fear, but fury as I stand up. How many times to I have to keep falling before him?

Loki walks over to me, unfazed.

"That was pathetic," he sneers.

"I thought it was pretty fun," I sniff, flipping my hair.

"Oh, then you'll love this," he says sleekly. He reaches behind me and grabs my hair, yanking my head sharply. Before I even realize it, he has twisted me around, pinned both hands behind my back, and is now holding me on the floor with his body.

"Come on, you idiot," he goads, "Try to aim _at _me this time."

Loki's weight crushes mine. I writhe against his stone chest while he continues to pin my arms in a painful position behind me. I can hear the rhythm of his heart, it is steady, as though what he's doing to me isn't a struggle for him. (Admittedly though, it probably isn't.)

"Fight me," he snarls, "Fight me, you disgusting whore." Heat fans out through me once again. Loki lifts himself off before I detonate. Flames rage out of my arms in disorganized convulsions, reaching high into the air like funeral pyre, but I am still the only thing the fire has changed. The sides of my tank top have been incinerated, causing drafty air to brush my torso.

"The problem with is that you are far too predictable and disorganized," says Loki smoothly, "I can see and feel you heating up. You must learn to be subtle, and control your fire in such a way that you can attack your enemies quickly, cleanly, and effectively. Your signature way of killing will not work against them. You will not have time to transform, bite them, and break their necks. Case in point, look at what I did to you just last night."

"So, aren't you going to teach me to control myself?" I ask sweetly, trying to keep my voice from trembling.

He smirks, "Maybe. Now, however, I believe that practice makes perfect. And I must say, I do love watching you struggle in my grasp. It's more delightful than watching you dance."

"Are you saying you liked my dancing?" I cock my head at him, allowing him to appreciate the flesh that is now exposed due to my burnt shirt.

"No. Your dancing reflects your freedom. Your love for chaos, anarchy, much like the way you've tried to attack me. But having you struggle against my power, knowing there is nothing you can do as long as you're under my thumb is far more…satisfying," he says hungrily, "Now, why don't we try this again?"

With that, Loki slams me onto the ground.

…

I limp out of the practice room, shame and anger clouding my mind. After four hours of brutal practice, where Loki continued to toss me around and more of my clothes were being burned off he was done for the day.

He also said that Midgardians were laughably weak and needed their rest, plus I probably needed to go fulfill my "whorish needs". I retorted that I could fulfill them with him, after all, he probably need someone to make him believe he was actually good at something.

Hence the now-throbbing ankle.

Before he actually attacked me, I could have sworn I saw a sweep of pain come over him. As though this was true for him. Maybe it was a flicker in his eyes, a coloring of the cheeks, I am still unsure. But I know that I now have something to tap into. Maybe I can talk to Thor about that…

After he finished spraining my ankle, and my clothes were burned down to what resembled a strapless bra and booty shirts, he stormed out of the room. I was going to need new clothes before this was over.

I eventually manage to make it up to the penthouse. I hobble over to the kitchen, open the freezer, and wrap some ice in a paper towel.

I sit at the couch and apply the ice to my ankle. Coldness has never felt comfortable against my scales, but the ice helps to ease the pain pulsing beneath my skin.

Suddenly, I hear whistling. The tune is familiar and, well, old. I manage to point my finger on the song: "Pennies From Heaven". Who could possibly be…

Rogers strolls in, sweaty with a towel over his shoulder. He is completely oblivious to a hurting, ash-covered me at the counter. He just continues whistling his song and rummages through the fridge for something to eat.

_Take one step at a time, be careful, _I tell myself, _You don't know how high and righteous Rogers is gonna be. _

I clear my throat.

He turns around and his eyes widen in shock. "Oh goodness. Erm, hello, Kathleen," he says, averting his eyes from me.

"Hi, Steve," I test out the name on my tongue, "I didn't know you were a Bing Crosby fan."

"Uh…yeah, it was a favorite back then. I mean, you would know…" he says. He quickly grabs a bottle of water from the fridge. "D-do you want anything?"

"Water's fine," I chirp. "Of course I knew it was your favorite. I lived in your apartment building, remember?"

"Did you?" he hands me the water bottle, his firmly fixed on my face, "I'm sorry, do you want a blanket or a sweater? You're-you're-"

"Seventy-five percent naked?" I giggle, "It's no big deal. I was just practicing with the God of Boo-hoo-I-couldn't-take-over-the-world."

He smiles nervously before his eyes fall to my ankle. His expression turns to one of concern, "What happened?"

"Oh, nothing," I brush off. He ignores me and leans down to examine my scaly foot. Surprise ripples through me, he didn't seem too enthusiastic about my legs last night.

"Did he do this to you?" he asks me earnestly.

"No, no, no," I lie, "That was just me being clumsy. I banged my foot against the wall walking out of practice. Believe me, if I can survive the Black Death, I can make it through this."

"If you say so," he says, but his concerned look doesn't leave his face.

Both of our heads turn to the hallway where the guest rooms are when we hear footsteps. Loki walks into the room, bearing a book in his hand. _Macbeth, _how very fitting.

He looks at me and Rogers and shoots a wry look towards me, "Ah, I see you've already started. Why am I not surprised?"

I roll my eyes at him and turn to Rogers, "Steve, do you think you could help me over to the bathroom? I think our handsome prince wants his alone time."

"Sure, no problem," he answers, his mood seems to have darkened ever since Loki entered.

I wrap my arm around his shoulder and he supports me with his arm around my waist. I notice his cheeks are dusted pink.

"You really are as chivalrous as they say," I flatter him, but I try to make sure that it is aimed at Loki.

As he carries me over to the bathroom I look back at Loki and wink triumphantly at him. He shakes his head, walks over to the couch, sits, and begins to read. Even when it seems like I've won, I haven't.

Not even close.

…

The silky bathwater embraces me gently, soothing the pain and cleaning the ashes. I let my head rest against the even surface of the tub and my hair sticks softly to my shoulders and breasts. The liquid is mesmerizing and healing. I am weightless, the feeling of his fingers around my neck is long forgotten. I feel…free. I find myself closing my eyes.

_The green-eyed boy tells me to stay where I am. He says that he is going to get his parents._

_ I am frightened. What if his parents think I'm ugly? What if they think I'm a witch and they hurt me, as I've seen it done to so many other girls in my village? A voice inside me tells me to stay where I am. Everything is going to be all right._

_ And I listen._

_ The green-eyed boy returns with his parents and brother. I notice that he looks nothing like them. They all are fair, while he is dark. _

_ "Hello, little one," says the woman, "What's your name?"_

_ I shyly tell them. They invite me to come back to their camp to eat with them. They ask me more questions and I find myself opening up to them. Is this what parents are supposed to be like?_

_ The green-eyed boy tells his parents that I should come home with them. After plenty of begging and pleading from both him and his brother, his parents agree. I release the breath I didn't realize I was holding._

_ After we finish lunch, we are transported back to their kingdom in a flash of light. We land on a multi-colored bridge with a tall, imposing guard waiting at the entrance. The kingdom is beautiful, with golden buildings, floating obelisks, and a rosy sky. It is everything he said it would be. It feels like home._

_ "Welcome home, your Majesty. I see you have a stowaway," says the guard._

_ "Not a stowaway, Heimdall," protests the green-eyed boy, "A new friend."_

_ The years pass and we grow._

_ I glide through the forest, looking for him. The green-eyed boy, _my _green-eyed boy. Finally I see him, sitting in front of a pond, chanting a spell and forming a ball of soft blue light with his hands._

_ I walk quietly. I know that he's pretending I'm not here. I pounce on him anyway. My body is draped across his as he places his hands on the small of my back._

_ I close my eyes and whisper to him, "Found you" before planting a kiss on his beautiful lips. He kisses back enthusiastically, his right hand wandering up to run his fingers through my hair. It is perfect, we belong together. I just know it._

_ I pull back to see him. To see if he knows how much I love him, even if it seems that no one else does. _

_ Loki stares back up at me, a serene look on his face._

I wake with my heart pounding and rapid breathing wracking my body.

**A/N: YAY. SHE UPDATES AT LAST. WHOOP-DEE-FRICKIN'-DOO. Yeah, sorry for not updating, you know how school is. (Bitchy, just in case you didn't) In exchange for giving you all the fruit of my labors, please, please, please review. It just boosts the inspiration level. Thank you so much! (And Avengers is coming out the 25****th**** ASDFGHJKLQWERTYUIOPZXCVBNM! :DDDD)**_  
_


	7. Punishment

Chapter Seven

I shakily pull the bath plug and let the lukewarm, soap-clouded bath water whirl into the drain. It turns out that I had been asleep for almost two hours, I'm surprised nobody came into check on me. Then again, I don't think anyone here would really care if I drowned. Loki would probably laugh.

A shiver runs down my spine at the thought of him. The green-eyed boy? I hadn't thought of him in so long. Even in the dream, his face was a blur. The only way I knew it was him was by his glowing emerald orbs. And then Loki managed to slip his way in and somehow become the green-eyed boy. I think that at some point, he banged my head too hard.

Typical, I guess. Loki always has a way to ruin everything.

I wrap a fluffy towel around my now prune-like body and walk over to my room. When I reach it, I let the towel slip to the floor. I begin to study myself in the full-length mirror. Freckles are sprinkled across my skin while my hair brushes the very top of the gentle swell of my stomach. My hands and legs (which still have the frustrating texture of a raisin due to the water) are dimpled and my scales glisten in the soft orange slight that is creeping through the curtains on my window.

Is this what he sees? Is this what everybody here sees? Back at Mr. Bumble's, the audience thought my legs were simply a special effect. They didn't care about my physical curse, just as long as they got to see me remove my clothing, they were happy. They loved me.

But now, here I am. All of the Avengers know that my legs were real, they know about my ability to transform, my fire…they know almost how many people I've killed. There is no hiding from them, I am vulnerable.

I have never felt so alone.

Tears begin to prick at the back of my eyes, threatening to come down in torrents down my cheeks. I sniff and push them back. I can't look weak in front of them, especially not _him. _I take a deep breath, put on some clothes, and with all the faux confidence that a dried fruit in a T-shirt and leggings can conjure up, I head out into the hallway.

Happy chattering and the smell of something fried and delicious float through the hallway. All of them are sitting around the living room with boxes of Chinese food littering the coffee table. Loki is sitting by himself at the counter picking through his uneaten rice.

Does that bastard _ever_ eat? Honestly.

I immediately have second thoughts about joining them. I begin to nervously touch my lips, pulling at the skin. Maybe it's not a good idea to go out. I guess I could always raid the refrigerator once everyone's asleep. Ignoring my rumbling stomach, I start to turn on my heel and head back to my room.

"And a wild Daenerys appears!" Stark's voice stops me in my tracks. I've been caught. Well, at least he has the decency to give me a cool nickname…unlike Reindeer Games.

"We were wondering where you were," he says.

I paint on a smile and try my best not to limp as I walk into the living room, "I don't get lost that easily."

"Good, kid. That'll save us a lot of trouble," he tells me. "Anyway, we have dinner so eat up."

He falls back into his conversation with Banner and everyone else goes back to their business. I grab a plate and spoon some honeyed chicken and rice. Letty would go berserk at the very thought of all of this takeout.

After some deliberating on where to sit, I finally squeeze in between Rogers and Thor. It's information-digging time.

"Hello, Thor," I say cheerily.

"Lady Kathleen," he grins through a mouthful of egg roll. "How was your lesson with my brother?"

I glance back at Loki. Still brooding. Still being a prospector on the Grand Rice Frontier. And thankfully, not paying attention to me or Thor.

"I have to say, he's pretty interesting," I answer. His brow furrows. Great, more "concern". I wonder when they'll realize that they can stop pretending to worry about me. They don't know how cruel it is to make me think that they really care.

Thor leans his head towards me and lowers his voice, "He's not hurting you, is he?"

Yes. "What?" I laugh, "No, of course not. He's just a little intense is all. Kind of like, um, Chuck Norris." Hey, it was the first name that came to mind.

"Who is this Chuck Norris?" Thor asks, mystified.

"Never mind," I say. Part of me yearns for him to continue asking me if I'm okay, almost like when Rogers was helping me out. I quickly brush the longing away. I want them see that I'm strong. "But hey, you didn't finish telling me about Asgard. You were in the middle of some story about Nar…No…"

"Nornheim?" he finishes.

"Yes!" Yeah, whatever. Just give me some juicy Loki details.

"So there we were, battling an army of thousands upon thousands of demons. We were completely outnumbered. Our defeat seemed certain but then-"

"I veiled all of us in smoke and made our escape possible. The end. You seem to always forget that part," Loki's voice drifts up from his spot. All heads swivel to face him. I'm guessing this is probably the first time he's spoken all dinner. His rice is still untouched.

"I was going to tell her," Thor says patiently.

Loki nods bitterly, "Well, I guess it doesn't matter if you tell her or not. After all, lame beasts are incapable of understanding speech."

"Hey, Reindeer Games, why don't you back off? And eat your damn rice, you're starving kids in Africa," Stark snaps. Loki keeps twisting the knife into the same wound; I've already had enough of that for one day.

I glare at him, "Loki, I'm sorry that you feel like we're invading your alone time but I'll share a little secret with you: the bathroom is an excellent place to masturbate."

Almost everyone's mouth is now gaping open in shock. Almost. Stark and Barton are both snorting back laughter.

Loki's face is now a vivid scarlet. "You dare speak to me like-"

"Before you ask me how a 'peasant' could ever speak to you like that, keep in mind that I'm not the one with the shackles," I say coolly, drawing attention to his ankle band. The same flicker of hurt I saw in his eyes earlier today returns briefly at the mention of the band.

Loki closes his mouth and rises from his chair. He storms out of the living room and dashes into the elevator.

"That…was…beautiful," says Natasha. I whip around to make sure that it's her that was speaking. Who would've guessed?

Thor turns to me, "Lady Kathleen, this would be about the second time I've apologized for my brother?"

"Like I said, you don't need to. You'll be apologizing too much," I say.

"If there's anything you need us to do, you have to let us know," Rogers tells me, his cheeks are still pink from hearing my crude retort to Loki's words.

It's my first day and I'm already sick of hearing them say this. "Guys, I'm fine," I lie. "I don't think I'm the one you need to be worried over." I shift my focus to the elevator. "Where's he going?"

"Around town," Banner speaks up, "Sometimes he goes to the library."

"And you just let him wander around by himself?" I question.

"Nope, in fact I am letting security know right now," Stark is now fiddling on his cell phone. "Not that he can do much, but just in case he goes all Joker on us."

Whoa, rewind. "He can't do much? But…he's my 'magic teacher', isn't that what he's supposed to do?"

I can practically feel all the attention in the room landing on Thor.

"Loki is well-versed in the art of magic, more so than anyone in all of Asgard-besides our father. It was his greatest talent. After we returned to Asgard, Father punished him by binding the band around his ankle. It keeps him from being able to practice his art," explains Thor heavily.

A pang of emotion hits me. I almost feel sorry for him, having his greatest gift being taken away from him. That explains why he never used any magic during practice today. It also explains why he looked so pained when I mentioned the band. The emotion swiftly passes. He deserves it. And it looks like I've finally pulled something out of Thor, even if he did seem a bit uncomfortable talking about it. I still need more research though. I can't go to the library without running into the Prince of Jacking Off and I can't hog Carol's computer anymore.

Hold on, am I staying with a billionaire or not?

"Hmm," I hum in response to Thor's story. Time to change the subject. "Hey, Tony," their first names still sound so odd coming from me.

"Yuh-huh?"

"Do you have an extra laptop lying around? I have a few emails that need answering," I say. Bullshit.

"Sadly no, but I can order one for you with no problem," he offers.

I inwardly cackle with glee. Fake kindness isn't so bad after all.

…

I watch the glowing city from the wide window of my darkened room. Finally I see a head of jet-black hair walking into the front of Stark Tower and dive under the covers of my bed.

I have been anxiously awaiting Loki's return for a few hours now. Now that everyone is asleep, I am truly frightened about what Loki will do to me as punishment for humiliating him. If he does anything tonight. He may be saving it for tomorrow during practice. I was an idiot, I should've known that this would happen.

I keep on twisting the skin off of my lips as I lay swathed in the comforter.

The ding of the elevator and the sounds of footsteps echo to my room. The footsteps grow slower as they come closer. My heart is in my throat.

I can see the shadow of his feet just outside my door. I close my eyes, pretending to be asleep. I nearly let out a scream as creak of the knob turning splits through the air. I allow my eyes to open slightly to see him.

His face is expressionless as he stands tall in the doorway. I wait for him to come in, ready to transform, even though it will probably be useless.

Only he doesn't. He studies me for a few minutes, sighs deeply, and closes the door.

So the punishment _does _come tomorrow.

**A/N: URGH. I don't like this chapter. MEH. Well, at least you got to see some of Kat's bitchy and dishonest side. Lordy be, is she liar…You also get to experience her nasty habit of picking at her chapped lips. you so much, especially ****BVBlover4ever for providing me with wonderful songs that have inspired this story so much! Also thanks to Florence + the Machine because pretty much everyone of her songs is about Loki.**

**Thank you all so much for your constant support. Seriously, you're the best.**


	8. A World of Laughter, A World of Tears

Chapter Eight

Sheer terror and Asian food may just be one of the worst combinations in history. The fear of Loki's punishment mingled with last night's egg rolls is causing my stomach to twist rather unpleasantly.

Forgive me, Letty. I promise that I will only eat home-cooking for as long as I live.

Last night, after Loki left, I kept falling in and out of dreamless sleep. I was out of water and then dragged under again. His sigh kept on replaying in my head, like a broken record. What was the point of coming into my room like that? Was it just to scare me? Did he know that walking in would frighten me and keep me from sleeping, allowing him to hurt me more easily? Did he even know if I was awake?

I guess I'll be finding out soon enough. When I got out of bed, Pepper told me that Loki was already in the practice room. I made sure that I got dressed and ate my breakfast as slowly as humanly possible. But alas, I couldn't elude Loki forever.

_It's just this one time, _I tell myself, _Thanos will be here in a few months. You will fight him, get out of going to federal prison, and never have to see this bastard again._

I find myself at the door of the practice room. I breathe, straighten my spine, and pull the final bit of scabbed skin off of my bottom lip. The guards act as unfazed as ever, ignoring the little flake that falls on the floor. I open the door and walk inside. The door closes with a shocking sense of finality to it.

Loki's back is to me and his hands are folded neatly behind his back.

"Hello," he draws out.

"Good morning," I reply to him. It is taking every fiber of my being not to run out of the practice room and all the way to Mexico.

He turns around and strides towards me.

"I must ask how your ankle is," he says expressionlessly. His politeness is becoming increasingly unsettling. I can practically hear the ticking of a bomb about to detonate.

I smile weakly, "Well, I think you may have grabbed it a bit too hard."

"And what possessed you to think that someone like me would care about a monster's injury?" he poses.

Is he serious? This is the same guy who pulled an Edward Cullen on me last night, probably looking me over for today's punishment. Before I realize it, I find myself taken by a fit of laughter.

Loki waits calmly until the guffaws subside. I finally manage to steady my voice.

"Nothing possessed me, Your Highness," I say airily. Another giggle escapes me, "I know you don't care. But I don't blame you. I bet it took a lot of muscle power for you to do that to me. I bet it sucks not having magic anymore."

The back of my head hits the floor, my vision goes black momentarily. My teeth come down hard onto my tongue and the iron taste of blood floods my mouth. Loki's frigid hands pin my arms to the ground while he kneels on top of my stomach. I should scream, I should fight back, but I don't.

I let another episode of laughter take hold of me. Looks like I've made the prince angry, his poor little feelings are hurt.

"What are…you going…to do?" I taunt between snickers "Turn…me into an…animal? A snake, perhaps? Don't you know…that…I can do that…even better…than you can?" I am rewarded with an even tighter grip around my arms, I already see my fingers turning blue as darts of pain sear them. My laughter begins to die down.

"Did my brother tell you this?" he hisses.

"Maybe…" I pout. "I think Thor trusts me a little too much." Loki lets go of my arms and throws me across the floor. I land with a loud thud into the furthest corner. He is now a fuzzy, blurry figure stalking in my direction. My limbs are roaring with pain, I can barely lift myself. The brief moment of confidence, of dominance that I thought I had ends. I am completely at his mercy yet again.

"Well, aren't you going to fight, you stupid girl?" he asks me, his voice laced with poison.

Without thinking, I answer him in a barely audible whisper, "I can't."

"What did you say?" he asks. "You can't?"

What have I done? I look at him pleadingly, hoping that he'll realize that it is just the hurt talking.

"Oh, now. I like this," he grins toothily at me. He crouches in front of me and reaches for my face. When I shrink away from his hand, he grabs my chin and brings me to face him.

"Do you fear me, Kathleen?"

"No," I rasp, blood seeping out of my mouth and dribbling onto my chin.

"You can't lie to me. You can lie to everyone else, but never to me," he growls. "You are frightened. Of me. Of the rest of the people on this idiotic team. You hardly trust anyone here, and for that I'll give you credit. But I know your heart. You want to be with those other disgusting creatures who were too hideous to function in this already rotting world. You want to go 'home'."

He leans in closely, "But you don't have a home, do you? You've tried to make one. Using your complete lack of self-respect to make people accept you-"

"Stop it," I beg, my eyes begin to burn with the threat of tears.

"To love you," he continues mercilessly, "But they just don't know, do they? They'll never know. You've never told them about how much blood you have on your hands. About your pathetic attempts to be a hero. You're completely alone in this. You don't have a home and you never will."

I turn my head down, trying to hide my glassy eyes from him.

"At least you're smart enough to know that tears won't make me gentler on you. If anything, I find it rather amusing. To see the true colors of someone who acts so sure of herself," he muses. His thumb brushes my cheek and lips, sending shivers down my spine.

"I only wish I had come to you first. I would have had the pleasure of breaking you much earlier, not to mention I would have put this wretched planet out of its misery."

I look at him oddly. "What are you talking about?"

"I had a feeling this would come up," he sighs, "The Other advised me to look for you first. He said you were extremely powerful and that with your help, my victory was certain. He also said you would have made quite a lovely prize. Frankly, I wasn't impressed. Not by your power or your looks."

Even though he is hurting me with every sound that comes out of his mouth, one last ember of defiance still burns, "But you lost without me. And now you're here, teaching me magic you can't even do yourself."

Loki says nothing. He picks me up and throws me against the wall.

…

Loki smoothes his shirt down as I lie curled up in a smoking, soot-covered ball on the floor. There is not a square inch on my body that isn't sore and dried blood has crusted at the corners of my mouth.

"You shouldn't be picking at your lips, Kathleen," he advises. "It is a terribly ghastly habit." With that, he walks out, looking extremely satisfied with himself.

After a few minutes of resting on the ground, I go back to my room and take a shower. No amount of massaging is able to ease the tenderness of my arms and legs.

How is it that he is able to hurt me so easily? For once, I thought I had him. And within minutes he destroyed me once again. He was able to express so much truth in his words to me, that's how. Shame at how right he was eats at me. I _do _want to go home. I want to dance with Penny, argue with Carol, fluff Mr. Bumble's ego, and just talk with Letty.

Maybe I can. The talking part to Letty part, anyway.

When I finish my shower, I dress, and head out. Banner and Stark are explaining something on a tablet to Rogers and Pepper. There is a box with "Toshiba" on it sitting on the counter. Stark notices me.

"Daenerys! Your special delivery's here," I hear Stark announce, patting the box.

"Kat," Pepper is not smiling, "What happened?" Shit. I forgot about the ugly bruise on my cheek. I don't even remember what part of the lesson I got it during. At least I'm wearing long sleeves. They would lose it if they saw my arms.

"Oh, this?" I gently touch my fingers to the bruise. "I just slipped in the bath tub, that's all."

"I was trying not to notice it, Pep," grumbles Tony. "I didn't want to embarrass her."

"She could be seriously hurt," scolds Pepper.

"Yeah, much like yesterday," adds Rogers. No, Stevie-boy, why?

"What?" Banner, Stark, and Pepper say simultaneously.

"Kat, you didn't tell them?" asks Rogers. All four pairs of eyes turn to me.

I smile as pleasantly as I can at the super-soldier, "Steve, I was perfectly okay. I'm fine now too, the only thing that's truly wounded is my ego."

"See? I told you," Stark says pointedly at Pepper.

Banner quietly reaches towards my face, I instinctively recoil.

"Kat, I don't turn into the other guy every second of my life. I'm not gonna hurt you," he says wryly. I let him examine my bruise. His fingers are warm and soft in contrast to Loki's, not what you'd expect from a man who once destroyed Harlem.

"She's right," Banner says, "It really isn't that bad. It'll probably be gone by tomorrow. You've always healed unusually quickly."

"And you would know this how?" I raise an eyebrow.

"It's SHIELD, we're working with, remember? They know all," he smiles. "But are you sure you don't want some ice on that?"

I think of Loki's hands. There's only so much coldness I can take.

"No, I can rub it away," I say, "But I wanted to ask if I could go out. I wanted to talk to Letty."

"Letty. She's the one with the beard who was all over Thor, right?" wonders Stark.

I nod.

"I'm afraid we can't let you out of the city, but call her all you want. Please tell me you have a cell phone," Stark says.

I shake my head sheepishly, "I never needed one."

He looks at Rogers and I, "You two are going to drive me insane. Don't worry, I'll let security know right now." Stark picks up his phone and texts them. Splendid. I've always wanted my own personal secret service just stalking my every move.

"Better yet, why don't you just use the phone here?" asks Pepper.

_Because I don't want Loki, or any of you for that matter, to hear me, you twit. _"Because I need some fresh air. And I can always buy myself dinner on the way back."

"Do you want someone to go with you?" questions Rogers.

"No," I reply, almost letting irritation seep into my voice. "I'm tough girl who can put on her own panties, Steve." _Jesus on a dinosaur, get with the times._

"Good one, Dany," applauds Stark. "Looks like you're good to go. You won't even know security's there."

"Yes!" I clap, "Thank you, thank you so much!" I cackle maniacally.

I sprint to my room to grab my wallet, leaving a gang of weirded-out superheroes in my wake.

…

I punch Letty's phone number into the rusty keypad. I had forgotten how dirty phone booths were. I study all of the "sexy massage" ads until the ringing stops.

"Heeello," Letty's drawl sends a surge of joy through me.

"Letty, it's me. Kat!" I squeak.

"KAT? Oh, darlin', I can't believe it! How are you, child? How are them there Avengers treatin' you? Better yet, has that hunk Thor asked about me?"

"All the time. Actually, there's something I wanna talk to you about." I feel a lump rising in my throat.

"What? Thor wants me to come and warm up his bed up a little?"

"Letty!" the laugh is the last thing keeping me from breaking down.

"Oh, I'm just teasin', honey. But tell me, what's wrong? I'm here for you."

My walls fall down. I break into wrenching sobs and tears stream down my face. With a snot-thickened voice, I relay my (most of) my troubles to Letty. I tell her between heaves about not feeling wanted, the Avengers pretending to be concerned for me, and Loki's constant abuse.

"In my opinion, the Avengers are all very good people. They've each saved the world-more than once. I think you just need to give them a chance, who knows? You might get a husband out of it."

"Letty," I sniffle, "just no."

"Excuse me, hon. Loki? Is he the skinny one who didn't eat a damn noodle of the spaghetti I so lovingly cooked?"

"That's the one," I say.

"That turd burger!"

"Letty! I believe you've just called the god of mischief a turd burger."

"He ain't no god of mischief, did you not just hear me? He's a goddamn turd burger."

"I miss you, Letty," I sob.

"I miss you too, sweet pea. Listen to me, you are a strong, independent, beautiful woman. Next time he hurts you, give it right back to him. Give him a taste of his own medicine."

"But Letty, he's so much stronger than me."

"That is NOT true. Any grown man who bullies others like that is a coward. You can stand up to him, show him what you're really made of."

"I'll try."

"Nobody and I mean nobody hurts my girl. And if you need me to, I'll come to wherever you are and sit on that skinny little ass of his. I'd probably snap him in half."

"May I join you?"

"The more the merrier."

"I love you, Letty. Thank you for everything."

"I love you too, hon. More than you know."

After more tearful expressions of goodbye, I finally hang up. I dry my face as best as I can and start heading back to Stark Tower, remembering that I have a brand-new laptop waiting for me there.

Encouraged by Letty's words of wisdom, I march confidently. Loki _is _a coward. I, of all people, should know this and it took a woman who is far younger than I am to tell me. Maybe I can stand up to him. It may take a while, it may take forever. But I already hate myself enough without him insulting me. This is just a mountain I have to climb.

Tomorrow is a new day.

**A/N: So…it looks like Kat's scheming again. Last time, she failed miserably but we'll see what she has in store. It might not be as inspiring and majestic as you think though. Kat definitely had a ruthless side to her, so that may be coming up in short order. Thank you all so much for subscribing. Please leave a comment if you would like to see some more chappies! Toodles! **


	9. Playing With Fire

Chapter Nine

I lie in the darkness of my bedroom, staring at the glowing computer screen. The cursor on Google's search bar blinks at me, inviting me to explore the vast archives of Norse mythology (and other garbage) in the recesses of the Internet.

With Stark's help, I was finally able to get my laptop running, meaning that I can now find some dirt about Loki. While his grumpiness over losing his powers is useful, it didn't earn me the reaction I was hoping for. Something family-related would be nice.

I search "Loki". After several minutes of combing through unreliable, virus-ridden websites and various works of Norse mythology fanart, I finally find a trustworthy looking source.

I have to say, Loki's family tree is…interesting. His wife, his mistress, his horse-boyfriend-mate-thing, his many different species of children. I wonder how his wife must feel about him attempting to take over the world. Wasn't she supposed to help him? According to these websites, she's the goddess of loyalty.

…Or not.

Loyal or no, this…Sigyn is probably a very painful topic for him. As is the fact that he failed to take over earth. No matter what I say, I don't plan to hold back like I did before.

I have to stop playing the innocent new girl. I am not new to this business of killing. That's ultimately what it is. SHIELD. The Avengers. No matter how they slice, they've killed people too. Why they act so superior about it is beyond me.

And killing is the only thing I know. I don't have an excuse to be tentative with the god of mischief.

Loki is a monster. He doesn't deserve gentleness, he doesn't deserve kindness. He murdered hundreds of people and tried to rule a planet that wasn't even his. And he still inflicts pain on me as though he is the king and I am his slave.

But he isn't king.

I will remind him of that as many times as I have to. Nobody wants him, not here, not on Asgard, not anywhere. I will break this fallen prince the same way he broke me. I want him to know pain the way I have known it.

The way I still know it.

Unfortunately, it will be rather difficult to compile a thousand years worth of pain into a few months, but it's certainly worth a shot. I close the laptop and snuggle peacefully into my covers.

_New day, Kat, _I remind myself, _new day._

…

The sun seems to be shining especially bright this morning. The entire complex smells rather citrusy, my ponytail is swishing happily behind me, and I am fiddling with the dried leaves in my pocket. Okay, so I may have stolen some of the potpourri that Pepper always has lying around the penthouse, but I doubt she'll suspect me. After all, Stark is always complaining about how it "debases the manliness of his glorious home".

But the potpourri isn't to make the practice room smell nicer, that's for sure. In my opinion, this is a great idea. Why didn't I think of this before?

I find myself at the door of the dreaded room. I slow my breathing down and soften my look. I purposely pick at my lips. Loki should have his fun a little longer. Just to add to his amusement, I roll up my sleeves so that he can get a look at my now-yellowing bruises.

As I pad softly in, Loki looks up at me and raises his eyebrows.

"My, my. What a lovely sight. The bruises, I mean," he remarks.

I merely twist my hair and walk closer to him.

"Ah, so the beast is rendered silent," he says wryly. "Good. You are truly a waste of air in this realm. If your miserable people would have let me, I would have eradicated hideous monsters like you."

_"Monster!"_

_ "Witch!"_

_ "Demon!"_

The villagers' words were in a language I have forgotten, but their meanings still resonate in my head.

_"YOU FREAK! Did you really think that I could love someone like you? Get out of here! NOW!"_

And of course, Johnny's words to me. Loki brings back these memories and a sweep of sorrow takes me. I feel my confidence chipping away.

Loki's frigid hand slamming onto my neck and gripping tightly breaks me out of my reverie.

"Come on, you disgusting bitch!" he roars. "You haven't been able to fight me once!" I heat myself up again. With a sneer, Loki throws me aside, causing to roll until I crash into the wall. Only then, do both of my arms begin to convulse with flame.

This is my chance. I subtly dig into my pocket and let the dried leaves burn to orange embers. The fire in my arms dies out, but the leaves are still bright and burning hidden away in my palms. I stumble back up and lean idly against the wall, slumping in such a way that my pose is almost inviting but keeping the potpourri hidden in my hand. The sorrow I had felt a few moments ago, is now replaced by anger.

Loki walks to me with his hands behind his back.

"I have to say, Kathleen," he smirks, "watching you get up has been the most impressive thing I've seen in my practice with you. I-"

"Loki. Shut up."

For a moment, he is thrown off guard. His mouth gapes open and close for a few seconds until he finds his voice.

"You insolent wretch!" he spits, "I am a-"

"You are not a god," I rasp viciously,"And you are not a king. You're a tyrant who isn't wanted, needed, or loved by anyone. It doesn't matter where you've been or who you've met. Nobody has ever wanted you around. You are an abortion, funnily enough, just like me."

Loki's face is twisted in fury, he begins to lunge for me. This is my chance.

I hold the burning leaves in front of my lips and blow. The embers fly into his eyes and he falls back onto the ground with a cry of anguish.

I've done it. I've made him fall. A rush of joy surges through me. I heat my arms up again, spurs of fire are already darting out of my shaking arms.

Loki briefly removes his hands from his now-crimson eyes and stares helplessly up at me, before rubbing them vigorously once again. I find no mercy for him in my heart. After all, he showed me none.

I stride over to him and press one foot on his chest.

"Not even your 'loyal' little wife seems to care about you. What's her name? Sigyn?" I taunt.

"Don't…you dare…mention that woman to me," he growls breathlessly.

"And why is that?" I cock my head to the side, "Because it's true? She broke your heart, didn't she? She was just like everyone else, she didn't want you. "

"Enough, you bitch!" he reaches for my ankle. With that, my ignited arms come down on Loki with a soft boom. The room explodes with orange light and overwhelming heat from the flames that are spewing uncontrollably out of my hands. Loki's haunting cries of pain fill the smoky air.

I stand back and study him calmly.

The entire left side of him is alive with flame, which he is desperately struggling to put out. And his skin is…blue? Even the sound of the fire on his skin is unusual. It is a low hiss, as though it is melting ice.

Loki finally manages to snuff his fire out. The side of his shirt has burned off completely, exposing a lean, sculpted torso with what seem to be runes etched into it. The rise and fall of his chest is rapid and his eyes are scrunched closed.

"Look at me, Loki," I say coldly, kneeling beside his quivering figure. He doesn't respond.

"Look at me!" I command. He takes a breath and opens his eyes. I breathe sharply at the sight of them. His eyes aren't the inflamed pink caused by the embers, but rather a dark, inhuman red.

"What are you?" I ask him, making sure that he can hear the disgust in my voice.

Loki narrows his eyes at me in reply. The blue of his skin and turns to a flushed red, while his eyes revert to their regular green.

I smile brightly at him, "It doesn't matter, I guess. It's nice to know that I'm not the only monster here." I stand up and brush the ashes off of what remains of my clothing. This is getting ridiculous. Either I'm going to have to go shopping or I'll have to get Stark and Banner to build a fireproof suit.

I walk to the door and open it.

"Oh, and by the way," I turn back to him, "you're a horrible teacher." I slam the door in a manner worthy of film.

I am grinning from ear to ear when I walk into the elevator. I did it. I managed to barbecue the god of mischief. The fire still came out of me in a messy, disorganized manner that probably wouldn't reach the flying Chi-watties or Chewbacas or whatever aliens were coming to invade. But I got him to stop hurting me, for today, anyway.

I don't know where lessons with him will go now. Will his abuse stop? Will it continue? Was this whole ordeal just a test to see how strong I was?

I find myself almost hoping that he betrays the Avengers and joins Thanos, because if he does, that means I get to kill him. And at this moment, nothing sounds more fun.

Unfortunately that isn't an option right now…but a celebratory dinner is.

I skip lithely into the living room. Thor and Rogers are dabbing themselves with towels after their workouts. I don't care if I frighten them, I can't contain my glee.

"Hello, boys!" I greet them cheerfully.

"Sweet Jesus, Kat," heaves Rogers, averting his gaze. This guy is the biggest prude. My honor doesn't need to be defended, for I have none.

"Erm, Lady Kathleen," Thor says, trying to keep his eyes on my face, "Is your lesson with my brother finished already?"

"It sure is!" I answer giddily, "And do you two know what day it is?"

"I'm afraid not, Kat," says Steve, "Really, I have a sweater if-"

"It's a glorious day!" I yodel. I grab Steve's face and plant a huge kiss on his cheek. I run to Thor and squeeze him in a tight embrace. Both men look shell-shocked as I pirouette into my room.

Right now, I couldn't care less. When I take a shower, I sing as loudly and soulfully as possible. I dress up nicely even though my special dinner for one isn't for hours.

My day is made even more pleasant when I don't see Loki in the tower at all.

…

The waiter sets a large slice of gooey-looking chocolate cake in front of me. I grab my fork, give him my cash for the meal, and dig in-all while imagining that Letty is here celebrating with me. In truth, she is the one who helped me through this. She should get credit for giving Loki his punishment.

The door to the restaurant opens again, I look up on instinct.

Loki walks in and sits down at the only empty table in the restaurant. My appetite for the cake is gone in an instant. I hide both my face and the cake behind the flower vase. I can't walk out of the restaurant, not without him noticing me.

"The usual," he says smoothly to the blushing waitress. I grumble inwardly. I wish that I could pull her aside and tell her that he packs a punch.

"Psst," I whisper to my waiter, "can I get a box for this?" I point at the uneaten cake.

"Suuuuuure," draws out the waiter suspiciously when he observes my strange position. He rolls his eyes and takes my cake.

I continue to study Loki. He's reading a book while sipping his wine. Ah, more Shakespeare. Why am I not surprised? This time it's _Hamlet._

The waitress returns with a thin sandwich. So that's how he doesn't starve to death. He smiles at her and I swear that I can hear her squealing.

Just as my waiter gives me my box, a loud group of Italians begins to exit the place. I dash towards them, hoping that my escape goes unnoticed.

"Your lesson is far from over, Kathleen," he says before I can make it out the exit. My mood blackens and I come to a halt.

"I may be a 'horrible teacher'," he continues, "But I am your teacher nonetheless. I will make sure that you learn your lesson perfectly." He takes another sip of his wine.

I scowl at him and storm out of the restaurant. _Please betray us, Loki, _I pray, _It's my only chance at getting to finish you once and for all._

**A/N: Well, that was interesting. I hope you really got to see Kat's cruel side shine through. Kat is definitely not in her right mind, we'll see if that comes up again in the next chapter. By the way, I have a bunch of songs I use as inspiration for this story so in case you were interested, here they are: **

**"Rescue Me"-Kerrie Roberts****  
****"Wanted"-Rachel Diggs****  
****"No Light, No Light","Seven Devils" -Florence+the Machine****  
****"Born to Die", "Blue Jeans"-Lana Del Rey****  
****"Safe and Sound"-Taylor Swift****"Illuminated"-Hurts****"Leave Out All the Rest"-Linkin Park****  
****"Pennies From Heaven"-Bing Crosby (Steve and Kat's song!)****  
****"Them There Eyes"-Billie Holiday (it reminds me of Loki somewhat)****  
****"Belle Vie", "Where Did it All Go", "Kingmaker"-Immediate Music****  
****"Fix You", "Princess of China"-Coldplay****  
****"Tinderbox Waltz"-Jo Gabriel (this is what inspired me to make Kat work at a freak show)****  
****"Wunderkind"-Alannis Morisette****  
****"Turn to Stone"-Ingrid Michaelson****  
****"Kryptonite"-3 Doors Down****  
****"You'll be Queen One Day"-Game of Thrones Soundtrack****  
****"Silence"-Unfaithful Soundtrack****"Wonderwall"-Oasis****"Sleepsong"-Secret Garden****  
****"Siuil A Run"-Celtic Woman (a song from Kat's homeland)****  
****"Lilium"-Elfen Lied Opening (Saddest. Anime. EVER.)**

**This is the same list I gave to BVBlover4ever. **** All of these are Kat/Loki/Feels/OFAF songs. And Jotun!Loki always gives me so many feels, I just had to write about him like that. Thank you all so much for reading. I got so many reviews for the last chapter that I locked myself in the bathroom and cried out of happiness (I shit you not, I really did that. I'm such a loser. :p) If you want my tears of joy to fall upon the keyboard, thus allowing this story to be written, please review! :D**


	10. As Sweet As Pain

Chapter Ten

_Central Park has changed somewhat. All right, a lot._

_The Great Lawn, which was once a smooth plain of green, virginal grass, has now become a beaten, sandy surface in order to make it the glorious arena that it is today. The thousands of people that fill it are applauding wildly from their golden seats, anxiously waiting for the action to begin. I sympathize with them, heaven knows how long I've waited for this day._

_ People from all over have come to witness this extraordinary event. And I, as their queen, watch them proudly from my place on the large, elevated base in the middle of the arena. I am clothed in an elegant red gown and have a headdress of small crimson flowers nestled in my flowing hair. Joining me on the base is a Chitauri soldier clutching a gleaming sword at his side. Guards stand around the edges of the oval stadium, each one in charge of an Avenger in chains. _

_ They don't look like the glorious heroes they once were._

_ The cocky glint in Stark's eyes is completely gone; Rogers looks practically indistinguishable from his pre-Captain America days; the dangerous aura that surrounded both Barton and Natasha has been reduced to nothing and the assassins look withered and weary. Even the mighty Thor has come to look completely emaciated, his limbs have gone from muscle to thin skin stretched over bones. I hear a tortured, animalistic roar from outside the arena. The Hulk has been bound and a gang of Chitauri are…keeping him in control. I have no fear that he'll break out and attack the spectators. _

_ It goes to show that even the oh-so-noble Avengers can be broken just as easily as everyone else._

_ In the midst of all of the adoring people is a large throne. A massive figure, taller than most men, occupies this throne. His face is naught but a blur, however, he nods his approval at me. Now is the time._

_ I gaze excitedly at the pyre erected in the center of the base. "Bring forth the Oppressor!" I order._

_ The audience explodes in mocking glee as the prisoner is led to the base, flanked by two more Chitauri. Young children boo enthusiastically while the older ones attempt to throw rotten produce at him. Surprisingly, Loki makes it up to the base with not a single splotch of tomato on him._

_ I allow myself a satisfied, sensual laugh at the sight of him. He is blue, with the runes marking his face and his eyes that hideous shade of scarlet. He's been tortured so badly, his back had become slightly hunched and many of his runes have been decorated with the crevices of cuts upon his skin. His black hair is disheveled and his princely wear has been replaced by rough, torn material. The look of defeat and fear couldn't be more obvious, his unnatural eyes almost seem to be filled with…sadness._

_ The figure on the throne raises his hand and a hushed silence falls over the crowd. _

_ "My people," I cry, "This is the very man who sought to subjugate every single one of you, to make you all slaves to his will. He would have had no qualms about killing you if it meant he would stay king of the mountain. But if you look closely, you see that under all of that is nothing but a child. A pathetic, unloved little boy wanting to prove himself."_

_ The arena rumbles with the mirth of the audience. I don't blame them, the thought of Loki being a lost little boy is far too absurd. _

_ "But alas, my friends, bad children must be punished," I look over at Loki and smile. The more I try to look into his eyes, the more he looks away. "And so, for threatening you, for destroying your homes, and for killing your families, he will pay."_

_ "I wanna see him burn!" a woman in the crowd shouts hysterically. Her words are followed by a wave of cheers._

_ "Well," I say, "since he is a Norse god, let's give him a Norse funeral!"The Chitauri grab Loki and tie him onto the pyre. He doesn't even struggle against them, he knows he can't win this. _

_ The fallen god lies back powerlessly, the ropes dig into his limbs while the sharp, unforgiving wood burrows into his back. _

_ "Stop this, Lady Kathleen!" I hear Thor begging desperately. How sweet of him, still trying to protect his baby brother. I look down at him as he fights to escape the Chitauri soldier's hold. "You can't do this."_

_ "I'm really not doing that much, Thor," I reply sleekly, "I'm only finishing what you—and your father started."_

_ Thor's face seems to crumble in on itself and he lowers his head as though he were a subdued beast._

_ I turn back to Loki and raise my hand. To my inward surprise, a smooth, controlled flame seeps out of my palm. I let my hand hover over the edge of the pyre and the wood ignites. The god remains stubbornly silent…until the flames reach his skin._

_ Loki's agonized shrieks ring out through the entire arena as the flames eat away at his clothes and dance on his skin, making it hiss. The audience claps enthusiastically at the display. The Chitauri soldier with the sword peers at me expectantly, I give him the signal. He walks over to the other side of the flaming pyre and lifts his sword._

_ With the fall of the gleaming weapon, Loki's screams are silenced. The Chitauri grabs the god of mischief's head by his raven hair. His eyes are still twitching left and right. I take the head from the soldier and hold it high above me, allowing the entire congregation to see the face of their former oppressor. _

_ The people love me, they love their queen. They blow kisses and embrace each other and celebrate. All of it was because of me, I made all of this joy possible._

_ I am a hero._

_ "This could all be yours, you could be loved and glorified by everyone," says a voice inside my head, "My only request is that you join me."_

…

I release a sharp gasp and stumble backwards against the door of my room. I had just been getting dressed for the day when that vision came into my mind. It had been so real, so intense, so…exhilarating. Those people in the crowd cheering me on because I was a hero. I defeated the monster who had destroyed their lives, and they didn't even seem to notice that I was a monster either.

I had ended Loki.

But what was the vision? I had never had any sort of telepathic powers (and never wanted to, there are some thoughts I can definitely live without hearing). There is no way it could be anything like that. Plus, who was that figure on the throne? Could it be…

It can't be Thanos. I have no idea what he looks or sounds like. But is he the one with telepathy? Looks like I won't be finding out. The Avengers had mentioned at some point they didn't have every bit of information on him just because Loki would only tell them so much.

There is no way in heaven or hell that I'm going to ask him questions about Thanos. Or any of the Avengers, really. Questions tend to lead to more questions, and personally, I don't think any of them would be too pleased that I got enjoyment out of torturing them.

But Thanos seemed so okay with Loki's death. This vision had everything I wanted. Was this an invitation to join him?

A loud knock intrudes my thoughts. It occurs to me that I am sitting against my door, with my pants at my ankles. Who knew putting on leggings would be such an ordeal?

"Kat, you all right in there?" Stark's voice floats from behind the door.

"Yeah, yeah. Just, um, tripped over one of my shoes," I tell him.

"Okay, just try not to tear your room apart," he says.

"I'll do my best," I answer back. I get up from the floor and pull up my pants before heading out. While it was a fun experience, I'll be putting the vision in the back burner for now. I have other things to worry about.

Pepper tells me that as usual, Loki is waiting in the practice room. I decide to not waste any time and I eat my Nutrigrain bar on my way downstairs. Besides, I'm intrigued about what Loki said about learning my "lesson".

Sounds pretty kinky if you ask me.

I swing the door to the practice room open. Loki is waiting expressionlessly with his hands folded behind his back. I only wish that I could keep them tied that way as he squirms like a helpless little worm under my fire.

"The fun has arrived," I announce as I walk inside. "So, teacher, what exactly is this 'lesson' of yours?"

"The same one it has always been," he says, "I'm going to teach you how to control your power in a way that will allow you attack smoothly, cleanly, and effectively."

I raise an eyebrow, "Seriously? I almost turned you into Harvey Dent yesterday, and you're really going to try to throttle me again?"

"If I have to, yes," he snaps. "The fact remains that your fire is messy and disorganized. Unless you've been pleasuring yourself the whole time you've been here-which wouldn't surprise me, you know the Chitauri have technology that is far superior to that of this pitiable realm. Your fire is low to the ground-"

"Well, of course I know that. How else was I able to turn you into a sizzling blue hamburger?" I smirk.

"One small victory doesn't make you a champion," he hisses.

Aw, the little princey-poo is sad that a peasant barbecued his royal butt. I laugh, "Victory? So this is some kind of game to you?" Then, a thought hits me, "If that's so, why are you so insistent on me perfecting my skills?"

When he doesn't answer, I put two and two together. He's not concerned about me getting my ability under control (for the record, I knew he never was), he has to do this. Fury suggested that I asked him about it during our sessions, but I didn't even have too. The shackle around his ankle, the attempts to make me fight back so that I could get a hold of my flame. It all makes sense.

He's certainly doing a terrible job at it, though.

"I'm your ticket out, aren't I? That the deal, wasn't it? You help me with my magic and you get yours…and your freedom," I cackle triumphantly.

"I suggest we not waste any more time, Kathleen," Loki narrows his eyes.

"You want your freedom!" I say wildly, "Freedom's nicer than you think, right? You want to wreak havoc again. You want to see Sigyn!"

"I thought I told you not to mention that woman to me," he growls and dives for my throat. My hands heat up faster than normally and my hands quake violently. The fiery discharge hits Loki's chest and he falls back, putting the flame out with his hands. Not my best, I'll admit. He didn't even turn blue. But at least I have him down.

I sit on his stomach, grab his collar, and pull him up to me.

"I want you to listen to me very carefully," I whisper viciously, "If I didn't have the threat of federal prison hanging over my head, I would have already ended you. You think that I would have been of use to you on your campaign to take over the world? Nothing could be further from the truth, honey. I would have made sure you never took another breath, I may have even saved a few buildings in the process. Believe me when I say that I am praying that you join Thanos's side because that would be a marvelous excuse to kill you. It would make my life so. Much. Simpler. You have-"

"I have what, Kathleen?" Loki asks.

I don't finish. My vision goes black momentarily and with the first stab, I know it is happening. Blinding pain sears the flesh on my legs and I fall off of him. My breathing picks up as the burning continues. I bite my lip as I heave, bottling my scream.

"Kathleen?" he furrows his brows curiously.

My only response is pathetic sniffling. I can't think, I can't speak, I can't move. Even after a thousand years, the pain is still as new and fresh as ever. I am shocked that I lost track of the days. I should've known this would be coming soon.

"Kathleen, what are you doing?" Loki demands. I am unable to contain myself any longer, my scream pierces the air.

"Tell me what's happening!" he roars, grabbing my shoulders.

"Get…me…upstairs," I heave, managing to release a few words.

His emerald eyes dart back and forth, as though he's deliberating whether to obey me or not. "If this is some kind of cry for mercy, you're-"

"LOKI!" I shriek, "Please get me upstairs, I am begging you!" I kick spastically upwards, trying to shake the pain away. I squint my eyes shut, trying to find relief in the darkness. It is all to no avail. To my shock I feel a cool arm slide under my back and another under my legs. I am hoisted into the air, against Loki's chest.

He begins to walk, while I lose myself inside the lids of my eyes. I grit my teeth, trying to keep myself from blowing Loki's eardrums out. My throat becomes tight with the screams I won't let myself release.

So much for being strong.

Loki's voice draws me out temporarily, "Don't worry, Kathleen. We're almost there." With the sudden ding of the elevator, we are greeted by a shower of worried voices asking what's wrong.

"Oh my god," I hear Natasha say and I know that they see it: the festering, dead flesh curling off of my legs.

I am set on the couch and I feel my leggings being rolled up.

"Tell us what to do," says Banner calmly.

"Give me…something to bite on. And get the…skin off-AH," I gasp as the darts flare under my skin.

After a few seconds, Natasha tells me to open my mouth and places a small, rolled up wash cloth inside.

"Ready, Kat?" asks Banner, I nod. With a swift rip, he pulls the entire sheath of dead skin off of my right leg and new, raw scales are greeted by a shock of cool air. My teeth dig into the wash cloth that muffled what was going to be an ear-shattering screech. Banner repeats the process with my other leg and after a few seconds, the stinging wears away. All that remains are the tears that are still streaming down my face and the throbbing heartbeat in my legs.

I open my eyes to see how these heroes took my shedding.

Banner and Barton are evenly and professionally throwing away the scraps of dead skin. Natasha's eyes are wide with concern, Rogers lets out a relaxed sigh, and Thor is now congratulating me on how brave I am and that he'd never seen anything like this in all of the nine realms. Stark, however, isn't really doing too well. He is leaned over the kitchen garbage can, filling it with the contents of this morning's breakfast.

As I look to Loki, my cheeks blaze with pink and my hands fly to my side.

I have been holding his hand this entire time.

…

For me, comfort consists of three things: chocolate, foot baths, and Billie Holiday. I let my feet soak in the lavender-soap scented water as I snack on last night's unfinished chocolate cake. Billie tells me in her sultry voice how crazy in love she is. This is exactly how one should spend their time post-shedding.

"Kat," Natasha's voice cuts through Billie's song. "Loki wants to talk to you. He's being annoyingly persistent about it too."

I chuckle at this. "Send him on in," I say.

"Are you sure?" she questions.

"Don't worry, I'm fully clothed," I assure her. She gives a "hmph" and tells Loki to go in. I place the cake on the edge of the bath tub and pause the music on my laptop. For all I know he's coming in here to tell me to apologize for cutting off the circulation in his hand. Then again, he didn't seem to be protesting against helping me.

And his words. His telling me not to worry and the fact that he let me hold onto his hand even if I was squeezing the life out of it. Not to mention that being held in his arms was…

"Kathleen?" he says. _Right, act natural. You're just taking a foot bath._

"Greetings, your Highness," I smile. He walks casually in and sits on the edge of the bathtub with me.

"How are your legs?" he wonders.

"Fine and dandy," I say suspiciously, "Why do you ask?"

"I can't have my, as you put it, 'ticket out' dying on me, can I?"

"No, I guess you can't."

"Excellent, we will be continuing lessons tomorrow. As usual."

"Are you going to actually teach this time? Your do-it-yourself method isn't exactly working," I remind him.

He sighs, "Kathleen, I don't want to be here any more than you do."

"That's the understatement of the century," I scoff. "Your anger about being here certainly shows." I motion to my yellowing bruises.

"The point is, like or not, we will be spending quite some time together so you will have to stop wallowing in your never-ending pool of self-pity and bear with whatever methods I put to use," his tone is clipped and final.

"Is that all, your Highness?" I grumble.

"Yes, I shall leave you to your peace," he stands up and begins to exit. I can't but feel slightly disappointed. I want to ask him why he was so quick to help me.

Without thinking, I blurt, "Loki!"

"Yes?" he cocks his head to the side.

"Um…thank you for helping me earlier today. That was really sweet of you," I stumble awkwardly through an expression of gratitude. Sweet? Really?

Surprise seems to flicker in his eyes for a moment, then it quickly turns to a satisfied grin.

"Remember," he says, "'Ticket out.'" He leaves me alone.

_Stupid, _I shame myself, burying my head in my hands. _Stupid, stupid, stupid._

**A/N: So as you can see, more stuff happened in this chapter. YAY FOR STUFF HAPPENING! Just wanted to let you know that I'm on deviantart. My name is partyanimagus and I've uploaded quite a bit of Kat/Loki-related fanart so if you wanna check that out, be my guest. I'm also on Tumblr as sociallyawkwardveela. I noticed that a few of you had questions about Kat and Loki remembering each other from before and give you the same explanation I've given other people: **The reason Loki and Kat don't recognize each other is mainly that so much time has passed. I mean think about it, it's been 1000+ years since they've seen each other. We can already see that Kat doesn't have a good memory of her life in the Dark Ages-she doesn't remember her native tongue or her original name. She has a only vague, blurry idea of who the green-eyed boy was. As for Loki, well, a thousand years is a lot of time to be in the shadow of your older brother. He's clearly had other matters on his mind for a long time and doesn't care about trying to remember some Midgardian girl he met centuries ago. Plus, I'm trying to keep him as in character as possible and for as long as I can in order to avoid the typical story lines of other Avengers fanfictions. But under all that assholeyness is the real Loki we all know and love. **Thank you all so very, very much for reading. Pretty please leave a review. Writers like reviews, I've also heard that if you give them reviews, they'll write more chapters. Hint, hint. :D**


	11. A Flame Among Shadows

Chapter Eleven

"So…you shed?"

"Yes."

"Like a snake?"

_Obviously. Really, for a wunderkind, you sure are an idiot. _"Right on the money," I chirp.

"I need another drink," Stark mutters before proceeding to pour himself a second glass of whiskey.

"You do this how often?" Barton questions.

"About once a year, apparently the first time it happened was about a month before my first birthday."

"Wait…how do you remember your birthday?" Natasha steps in. This is feeling strangely like an interrogation.

I bite my lip, "Well, I don't know the exact date, but from what I understand, it's at the beginning of autumn."

"And how do you know _that?" _presses Natasha. I know it because my mother would always become gloomier around the start of fall. I asked her why. She told me that this time of year was when "the leaves turned brown and cold winds howled and world began to wither into a deathly slumber". She told me that it was at that time, years ago when my wicked cries rang out into the sky for the very first time. A mother's scorn isn't really something you forget. That memory of her lasted longer than my memory of her name.

"Believe it or not, we celebrated birthdays in the Dark Ages too," I lie. "Despite what the history books say."

"Seriously?" Rogers peers at me quizzically.

"Come on," I laugh, "are you going to trust a boring volume written by some crusty old English guy or the real thing?"

"Whatever you say, Daenerys," shivers Stark. "Just give us a heads-up next time."

"Will do, sir," I say.

"Man of Iron, what is this film about?" Thor has fished out a DVD from Stark's Sacred Cabinet of Movies.

"_Fellowship of the Ring_? You would love it, Point Break. It's got elves, swordfights, beards-"

"We shall see it," declares Thor, popping the disc into the player.

"The god has spoken," says Stark. The heroes plop themselves on the couches, when Pepper comes in with a large bowl of popcorn, the lights go off.

"Kat, aren't you gonna join us?" Rogers asks.

It hits me that I'm still standing at the bar. "Oh, um. Actually…" I fake a yawn and stretch, "I'm really tired, so I think I'll just go to bed." I start towards my room.

"Dude, why don't you join the living for once? You're starting to act kinda like Reindeer Games," says Stark.

_Fine, I don't really want to be in that hallway with him alone anyway. Terrible things happen in hallways, _I think to myself. It suddenly dawns on me that I haven't seen him since our very strange conversation earlier today. Heat flares in my cheeks at the recollection of my idiotic attempt at thanking him. I really don't know why I said anything. It simply slipped out.

And didn't help to convince Loki that I'm not as stupid as he thinks I am.

I sigh and walk to the couches. Thor scoots over to make room for me and I decide to sit next to him. I don't know why, but out of all the Avengers, I feel the most comfortable around him. Maybe it's because he was the first one who truly (and civilly) talked to me. Or possibly because he reminds me of Letty's infatuation with him. I can't say.

But of all of them, his presence is the most welcoming. So I pull a blanket from the basket next to the couch, curl tightly next to him, and listen to Galadriel tell us the history of the One Ring.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Loki disappear from the threshold and into the shadowy hallway, retreating to his room.

…

I hum the _Fellowship _theme on the way down to the practice room. Sitting next to Thor last night was almost more entertaining than the movie itself. Apparently, he still can't grasp the concept that the characters in the movie can't hear the audience. He was yelling battle tactics at them and griping about how he would've completely destroyed the Balrog with the help of Mjolnir. He also choked up a little when Boromir died. Thor said that even though he had been tempted, he was a true and noble warrior at heart.

I felt a little guilty for laughing at him. Thankfully, Thor seems to bounce back pretty quickly—something that is incredibly refreshing for someone like me.

"Hello, Hermit," I throw the door open and slam it closed. "You ready to become a cerulean piece of fried chicken today?" I notice immediately that something's off: Loki is seated patiently on the ground.

What is he planning?

"Nothing of the sort will be happening. We're going to try something different today," he says.

I can hear the sound of wheels screeching to a stop in my head, "Really?"

"Are you frightened?" he raises an eyebrow.

"No," I answer, affronted.

"Yes, you are."

"I am not!'

"Then stop wasting my time and sit down. The sooner I make you at least remotely competent at controlling your ability, the better. Besides, I'm in no mood to stare at your feet all day. They are rather repulsive."

My scaly toes curl in shame. "Whatever you say, Your Highness," I grumble as I sit down, "I will come down to your level."

"If you think that I'm implying that even for a moment, you are greatly mistaken."

"Oh! I'm sorry, Your Highness. Will you accept an apology from a humble freak show worker?"

"You do not deserve forgiveness. You're lucky that I am choosing to try this method…or would you rather I revert to throttling you?"

Before I can retort, Loki roughly yanks my right arm towards him.

"Um, what are you doing?" I ask him.

"Did I give you permission to speak?"

"You never said that I _couldn't _speak."

"I am now. Say another word and I will have no qualms about silencing you with your own shirt," he snaps.

"Ooh, kinky," I purr.

I am answered with another yank at my arm.

"Lean towards me and keep your arm up," he commands, I obey.

Loki places both of his hands on my shoulder and then begins to massage. His long fingers knead deep circles into my flesh as he works his way down my arm. When he reaches my hand, he gently grabs each of fingers and gently pulls them.

It is oddly relaxing. He does the exact same to my left arm.

"Close your eyes and listen to what I tell you to do." The image of Loki is replaced by the black screen of my inner eyelids.

He begins, "Calm down. Relax your muscles and take steady breaths.

"You are in a tunnel. It is cramped and pitch black, but there is only one way out. You don't know that. Not yet.

"You need light to see where you are. Raise your hand slowly, keep it as still as you can. Create a flame no bigger than your hand. All you need is light to see."

I raise my hand, but the moment heat gathers in my fingers is the moment it starts shaking. I can't do it. The black screen over my eyes is swallowed by orange as the flames spew out.

Loki has already moved a safe distance away into the corner of the room, but he still sitting.

"Again," he says.

For the next hour Loki guides me through more failed attempts at creating a controlled fire. I find that what's putting me off the most is that Loki is unusually serene throughout all of this. He doesn't raise his voice or make any degrading remarks, he instructs me calmly again and again.

"…All you need is light to see," he says for what I'm estimating is the fifty-third time. I try something different this time. I don't tense my hand up, cramping all the muscles in order to keep the flame trapped. This time I let it rest.

All I need is light to see.

When I feel delicious warmth moving slowly over my fingers, I open my eyes. A fire is dancing smoothly and softly over my hand.

I've done it. A smile begins to crack over my face.

"I'm doing it…I'm doing it!" I squeal delightedly. "Loki! Look at me!"

"Ah, it seem as though I'll be getting my freedom after all," Loki says wryly.

I ignore Loki's response and continue to watch the flame in wonder. A few minutes pass and it dies down.

"I can't believe I did it," I say.

"Neither can I," he agrees. I refuse to let him bring me down today. This is probably the biggest self-esteem boost I'll ever get from him. An urge to thank him like I did yesterday surges through me. Then I think of how stupid I acted in front of him. Nope, not a good idea. Maybe if he wasn't as handsome interacting with him would be easier.

What? I won't lie, Loki is quite the looker. I'm not a petty, pure little girl who thinks it's wrong to find such a horrible person physically attractive. Believe me, if he wasn't such an asshole (and my legs weren't covered in scales), why the hell not?

Loki clearing his throat signals that an awkward silence has been going on for several moments.

"So, this has been fun," I say to him. "I shall see you later, Your Highness. Hope you can join us for _Two Towers _tonight." Not really.

"As if," he smirks.

I nod and begin to head for the door.

"Kathleen," he stops me, I turn to him.

"I have a question about your shedding," he draws out.

I cross my arms, "Fire away." No pun intended.

"How did you handle it as a child? Who in those embarrassingly primitive Dark Ages would want to help a demon shed its skin?" he asks.

I guess there's no point in shying away from the truth, plus I can't think of a more elaborate lie right now.

"Well, you kind of answered that question yourself. The answer is no one. Nobody would have wanted to help me and no one did. My parents, oh, they got away with peeling the skin off for the first few years of my life. Sick babies weren't rare back then. But after a while, my father would wait until night fall, sneak me to the edge of the woods, and tell me to go ahead and take it off."

"You'd do it by yourself?"

I nod, flinching at the memories, "Yes. I guess you could say that I was responsible for rumored existence of banshees. My dear daddy would always tell me not to scream so loudly the next time. That's pretty how I did it from then on, always having to sneak into a nearby forest to do it. In my old apartment building, I gained an interesting reputation just because I worked as a cigarette girl at a night club. They always assumed that I was screaming because I…had company over."

Loki snickers at this. "Why didn't you bite down on anything like this time?"

"Because the pain is so stifling I collapse. Nothing else crosses my mind. The freak show mother, Madame DuGarde was the first one to truly help me with it. When Letty arrived and Madame retired, she became the one who took care of me," I explain. I am shocked at how easy it was to divulge information to him. I had not been planning on telling him that much. Does he always have this effect on people? It's incredibly infuriating…and inconvenient.

"I'm also curious as to why it hurts. Snakes don't feel pain when they shed. Why do you?" he says.

"I have to say, your questions are definitely more interesting than Natasha's," I tell him pointedly, "if a little nosy."

"I don't want your opinion, I want an answer to my question."

"Honestly, I don't know," I say, exasperated. "It's like Crom Cruach did it just to watch me in pain."

"Crom Cruach?" Loki furrows his brow, I can see concern clouding in his eyes again.

"Celtic deity," I huff irately, "Look it up."

"I shall," he walks over and opens the door for me. "And you are going to accompany me."

**A/N: 81 FOLLOWERS YOU GUYS. SWEET BALLSACKS YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW HAPPY I AM RIGHT NOW. I WANT TO HUG ALL OF YOU AND GIVE YOU AN OPPORTUNITY TO TOUCH THE GLORIOUS ANATOMICAL MASTERPIECE THAT IS TOM HIDDLESTON'S BUTT. GOOD LORD. All caps lock bliss aside, thank you all so very, very much. I'm so sorry for not updating. This year is killing me. You guys and this story are the some of the only things that's helping me get through it. Once again, thank you so much. And this is kind of random, but after much debate and thought (and some reader opinions), the Hogwarts house that I would place Kat in is Ravenclaw. I was thinking Slytherin at first but I figured the Kat wouldn't exploit people like they do (no offense to any snakes out there, I'm a Slytherclaw myself!) Anyway, please leave a comment and I will try to update ASAP.**


	12. Loki Presents Some Good Points

Chapter Twelve

"Yeah, okay. I'm flattered by your sudden and truthfully unsettling interest but I'm really not up for watching you jack off to god-knows-what from the darkest corners of the internet. So no, I'm not going to be your research partner on this one," I tell Loki.

"You truly are one of the most vulgar, ghastly creatures I've ever known," he grimaces. "You are also wrong in your assumption that I want to use a computer to conduct my research. I don't trust those vile things. No, I much prefer books. I find that they are more solid, more comforting, if you will."

"Books also don't tempt you to click on whatever Youporn links you have saved to 'Favorites', right?" I smirk.

"For the record, Kathleen, I don't need to use the Internet to watch some whore making a fool of herself in order to get attention. I have the privilege of seeing the real thing here, every single day."

My cheeks redden at his words. You think I would've gotten used to it by now. Then again, this is one of his lighter insults.

"Besides, I'm sure that you know quite a bit on this subject, only you've suppressed it. I probably wouldn't be able to pry any information out of you in at this moment. You can think of our little excursion as an opportunity to, as they say, 'jog your memory'," he explains.

I take a breath and collect my thoughts. He's right. The only thing I remember about Crom Cruach was that it was an old god who did "unspeakable things" according to my parents. One of those things being allowing me to exist. Although it'll be a bit painful, I still want to know about the one who made me the way I am.

Hey, it's the only the explanation I've got. And in a universe where Norse gods can travel between planets, quiet scientists turn into rage monsters, asthmatic little boys become super-soldiers, and billionaire-geniuses can travel in metal suits without being reduced to a pile of meat loaf…anything is possible. Also, I get the impression that if Loki goes alone, he'll somehow find a way to use his research against me.

Not that he won't if I go with him, but if I do, at least I'll be more prepared.

"Well, Your Highness, it seems you have a point," I say. "I will grace you with my presence while we pore over ancient literature."

He rolls his eyes, "Now, I suggest you go and freshen up. I won't have the smell of burnt clothing following me everywhere."

"As you wish, Your Highness," I curtsy to him and stride out of the room.

…

It is a surprisingly cold day for early September. Being gifted with snake-like traits, well, the cold and I have never really agreed and Loki's chilly countenance isn't helping to warm up our walk to the library.

Not one word passes between me and the god of mischief on the way to our destination. Loki travels in long strides while I walk slightly behind him, twisting dead skin off of my lower lip. His eyes remain locked ahead, never straying from the way in front of him and never sparing me a glance.

"He's taken, you know," Loki breaks the silence.

"Come again?"

"Thor. I saw you next to him last night," his tone is not accusatory, but calm. "He has a lover."

"Ah, Sif." See? I've caught up a little bit. Unlike Prince Stick-Up-His-Ass, I have an actual job and therefore don't exactly have time to read up on every little detail on Norse mythology. But with all this brand-new free time on my hands, I've been able to gather quite a few tidbits.

"Not Sif, you idiot. A Midgardian woman."

I raise an eyebrow, "Wait. Really?"

"He and Sif were always so close as children that everyone thought they'd eventually wed."

"…And oral tradition kind of got that wrong."

"Very good, serpent."

I scurry to catch up with him, "Why are you telling me this? If I'm such a whore, why would you think that I'd care whether or not he was single?"

"I'm just trying to save you from a vicious cycle of heartbreak. The one you've probably witnessed during throughout all of the years you've lived but from which you've never really quite learned from. You're lost in your despair and turn to him to make you feel better, offering yourself to him completely. When he decides he's tired, he disposes of you, leaving you hopeless and alone once again. Then you run to another man, repeating the sequence. You must be remotely familiar with _that _tragic cycle."

I actually managed to avoid that for much of my life. I messed around, of course, but I knew better. Most men don't want to bed a girl with scales on her legs. I'm sure that even after the initial shock wears off, they'd probably fear contracting a skin disease. There was only one time I thought a man could look past all of that. I was wrong. But I'm not going to tell him that. No, this can be our little secret.

"But if I am such a harlot according to you, I would have gotten used to it by now, wouldn't I?" I tell him simply.

Loki shrugs as though he does not care either way and silence descends over us once more, giving way to hustle and bustle of the city street.

We finally find ourselves at the library, greeted by the tall Corinthian columns and the imposing sculptures of lions and gods. The moment we enter the building, I feel the tip of my nose beginning to thaw out. I release a sigh of comfort at the warm air and shimmy out of my jacket.

"You were really that cold?" wonders Loki.

I say nothing, I merely point to my legs.

"Ah, yes. I almost forgot how crippling your condition is," he muses.

I frown, "So, I've never been here before. Any idea where you might want to look?"

"Hmm. Wait here, Kathleen. Try not to hurt yourself," he tells me before heading to the front desk. I wait for him, tapping my foot and fiddling with my jacket. I notice two men with earpieces come through the door and head over to the periodicals section, attempting to make it obvious that they are absolutely NOT spying on me and Loki.

SHIELD has got to work making sure their security guards are more subtle.

Loki finally returns to me and tells me where to look. After twisting and turning through mazes of bookshelves for several minutes, we finally arrive at a section that is filled to the brim with books on world mythology.

We both scan the shelves until finally, Loki pulls one out: _Monsters and Anti-gods From Celtic Legend. _His reasoning? There's no way a benevolent god would've created a creature like me.

We sit down and he flips through the pages while I try to get a peek at the content.

"Ah, here we are…" Loki's voice trails off as he arrives at a page. His smug expression caves in on itself as he continues to stare at the contents of the book.

"What is it?" I whisper. He doesn't answer.

Exasperated, I snatch the book from him. There, under the words "Crom Cruach", is a picture of a large, grotesque serpent devouring a village.

I really don't see what the big deal is. It's like looking at a bigger, more armored version of me.

"Your Highness, wanna tell me what the problem is. You've stopped breathing," I say.

Loki snaps out of his haunted reverie and takes the book back from me. "There was never any problem, Kathleen. Well, it's interesting that we now know why Crom Cruach made you in the likeness of a serpent."

"Do you actually believe all of this?" I ask him, not skeptically just curious about his answer. "I have a feeling that Stark or Banner would think that this all some kind of Satanic bullcrap."

"Anything's possible, isn't it?" says Loki. Touché.

Loki proves himself to be right again. Studying this does help me remember. We comb through the information and I find that I am able to correct him on a few things: Crom Cruach-worship was not ended by St. Patrick as seen in my case. He was around hundreds of years before I was born. He also didn't cease the flow of human sacrifice either. My father always said that the cave where the witch lived was filled with human corpses. Heads skewered one on top of another. Bodies with mutilated mouths, eyes, and genitals tied by their arms to the ceiling of cave. Limbs in the process of being flayed. All of these things sacrifices to the god of death.

Oh, yeah. According to my daddy-kins, Crom Cruach was the god of death and pain, not a fertility or harvest god as the book says and as the internet would most likely venture to say. I am surprised at how easy it is to recount all of this to him. As long as I stay away from the shame aspect and the holocaust of my village, I find that I am fine discussing this.

Take that, turdburger.

"Kathleen, I must say, it is convenient having you around," he says. "Frankly, I trust you more than, as you put it, 'a crusty old English guy'. I can't envision you coming up with a better lie anyway. You may be dishonest, but that doesn't make you a good liar."

Obviously not in your eyes, Your Highness. You _are_ the god of lies, as you feel the need to remind me constantly.

"See? I'm not that bad to have around, right?" I purr, scooting closer to him.

"Please don't do that," he scowls.

"SSSSHHHHHHH!" the librarian hisses at us. She adjusts her glasses and reverts to her book and plucking at the hair on her very large mole.

"That damned woman irks me to no end," growls Loki. He turns to me, "Would you like to help me alleviate my annoyance? I have just about had enough with her."

"What would you have me do?" I ask.

Loki digs into his pocket and pulls out a small salt shaker.

"Ah, I can see you've been planning this for some time," I observe.

"It is almost twelve. Every hour on the dot, she goes to that coffee station to refill her cup. I need you to distract her while I place some of this salt in the can of sugar."

"Wow," I snort, "How old are you? Five?"

"PSSST!" The librarian appears to be fuming now. "If you two don't be quiet, I'll have you thrown out," she mouths.

"Yeah, I can see your logic," I conclude.

"Excellent. Go up to her, I'll take care of the rest," he commands. I do as I'm told.

"Hello, Miss," I say sweetly.

"Could you mind keeping it down?" she grumbles, the hair on her mole bobbing up an down as she speaks.

"I'm so very sorry," I bat my eyelashes. "But I had a question about where I can find a certain text."

"Okay…" she says.

"Do you know where I'd be able to find a copy of the _Kama Sutra_? My boyfriend and I are trying to spice things up if you know what I mean." I wink at her.

The woman's mouth drops open, "I…I…"

"Kathleen, love?" Loki joins me at the desk. "Look at what I found." Sure enough, it is an unabridged copy of the _Kama Sutra. _

"Ooh yay!" I clap excitedly. "Never mind, then. Thanks though!" With that, Loki and I dart behind the one of the bookshelves. We patiently watch her get up to help herself to some coffee, angrily muttering to all the while.

She takes a sip and immediately starts to gag and sputter, the brown liquid sprinkling her sweater. Before we know it, Loki and I are leaning against each other, trying to keep our laughter silent.

I realize that this is the most fun I've had during these past few days.

Our laughter eventually dies down and Loki and I awkwardly separate from each other.

"We should head back, yes?" he proposes.

I clear my throat, "I think so."

Loki is still holding the _Kama Sutra, _"Did you still want to take this?"

"I'm good," I say. "Before we leave are sure you don't want to make a Shakespeare stop?"

Loki raises an eyebrow. _Stupid, Kat. Stupid, stupid, stupid. _

"Um, it's just that I saw you reading some of his plays and…it looked like you were really enjoying them." I feel so small under his gaze.

"I suppose I should, given that Stark's collection of literature is rather unsatisfying," he says.

"_Playboy _magazines not entertaining enough, huh?"

"Not in the least," Loki allows himself a half-smile and we start towards the Shakespeare section.

**A/N: 90 FOLLOWERS AND 75 REVIEWS. GOOD LORD, YOU PEOPLE ARE SO WONDERFUL I AM ABOUT TO SHIT RAINBOWS. And I really needed this, I'm not feeling too confident with this chapter but at least it has some new stuff that happened…and Kama Sutra. Heheh… I also wanted to use this chapter to give you all a glimpse of Loki's mischievous side, after all, he is the god of mischief. Thank you all so so so so so very much. You have no idea how happy your love of my story makes me. **


	13. Questions

Chapter Thirteen

I have to admit, Loki and I have made out like bandits. We were able to slip out of the library in such a way that security seemed to lose track of us. That'll keep them out of our hair for a little while.

It certainly gives Loki and me some time to burn down a building or two.

Only kidding. The Constitution can ban cruel and unusual punishment all it wants, but that does not mean the Feds do. With all of this supernatural hullabaloo that's been going on as of late, I bet they've been working on new ways of detaining war criminals.

So instead of wreaking havoc on the oh-so-sweet and innocent citizens of New York City we find ourselves at the Great Lawn in Central Park. Loki leads the way to a shady spot while I trail behind him…carrying his books.

He chooses a large oak and sits comfortably at his base. I dump all of his books on the ground before sitting down by him. He frowns deeply.

"I would appreciate it if you didn't treat the books as though they were worthless," Loki says.

"Well, what if I don't like Shakespeare?" I pose.

"Then you are merely proving yourself to be the uncultured, putrid mass of filth I've always thought you were," he says blandly.

I look shamefully down at the grass and begin to tear the green blades from the earth.

"I actually do like him…" I murmur, looking up momentarily and awaiting his response. It is the truth, after all. It never ceases to amaze me how almost everything I do in front of him backfires. I just can't do anything right, can I?

"In that case, you are a _cultured _mass of filth," he smirks. He plucks _The Taming of the Shrew _from the ground, dusts the dirt off, and begins to read. I continue to rip the helpless blades of grass from the ground.

I really do like Shakespeare. It brings back memories of working as an orange girl at the Globe, the actors bringing the Bard's words to life, seeing so many people from all walks of life come together to see a vibrant story unfold under the London sky. But I refuse to read it right now, not while Loki seems to be enjoying himself so much. I have a feeling that if I do decide to pick up one of the plays, I will hear Loki's voice narrating in my head-maybe even adding a few insults aimed at me.

Leave it to Loki to ruin good experiences I suppose. Not unlike…

"You know, you remind me a lot of a guy I used to date," I blurt before I can hold myself back.

"I give him my deepest sympathies," Loki doesn't look up from his book.

It'd be a bit difficult to do that right now. He's…dead.

"Who ended it?" Loki asks.

"Why are you suddenly so curious about my love life?"

"Answer the damned question."

"Will you answer mine if I do?"

"Possibly." Better than nothing.

I take a breath, "It depends on how you look at it. He was," I pause, "the first to notice that we had a problem."

"It's comforting to know you have a taste for intelligent men," he says. "What's his name?"

"Aw, does someone have a crush? Do want his address too?"

"I am a very curious person, Kathleen. You can take that as a response to your first question. Now, give me a name."

"John. John Whitaker."

"See? That wasn't so bad, was it?" says Loki. "Poor, unfortunate John."

"Hmph" is my only reply. A silence spreads itself between us.

After I've created a fairly large pile of grass, I study Loki as he reads.

He is one of the most expressive readers I have ever seen. His emerald eyes dart left and right, tracing the words down each page. His eyebrows rise and fall with each scene and his lips turn slightly upwards in a smile every time he comes across a section of witty dialogue.

I can only imagine what he'd be like if he were to actually see a play.

"Have you ever actually seen a Shakespeare play in all of your travels to my lovely little planet?" I ask.

Loki peers oddly at me. I think I just threw off the God of Mischief.

"No, I have not. Princes don't have as much time on their hands as you believe, Kathleen," he growls.

"I was just wondering if you'd be as animated at a play as you are while you're reading," I chirp.

"I'd certainly like to find out if I would be," he says almost wistfully.

"Then you and Johnny should go out on a date to see a play."

Loki kicks me lightly on the knee. His face unravels into a full-out grin. He looks almost childish. The September wind has disheveled his formerly slicked-back hair and the corners of eyes crinkle in glee.

"What's with that look?" I scowl.

"You amuse me, Kathleen," he shakes his head.

Wait. Hold the phone. "Oh…so does this mean you enjoy my company now?" I crawl over to him.

"I will say this: I enjoy your company more than that of my brother and his friends'."

"I'll be gloating about this later, thank you very much."

"No, you are not. Not unless you want to be humiliated in front of whoever is listening. You are to pretend that this conversation never happened, understood?"

"Yes, your highness," I pout, swinging my legs over his lap.

"Get off before I damage your self-esteem once again," he orders flatly.

"Thanks for the warning," I mumble.

"Think nothing of it."

"Can I at least join you? _The Taming of the Shrew _is one of my favorites."

"Only because I'm so generous," he says wryly.

Loki lays the book gently on the ground and we read together. I read slightly quicker than I usually do for fear of another slur against me. Loki enjoys my company because I am the only one he can attack (both physically and verbally) without any real backlash. Any of the Avengers would have the others back them up. I wouldn't. And even if I did, it wouldn't be genuine.

The wind suddenly picks up and the air becomes almost frigid, sending shivers down my spine. I wrap my jacket more tightly around me, but it is all to no avail.

"Kathleen," Loki pats the ground next to him. "If you must."

I scoot closer to him. He wraps his arm around me and rubs his hand up and down, letting the friction heat me up.

What witchcraft is this?

"As your teacher, I think it is unwise to let you create your own fire right now. Even if you do have kindling." He points to the little pile of grass.

I am shocked. At this point, I don't even know what to think anymore. All I know is that I feel so much warmer, I am pressed against Loki, and my heart is…glowing.

And it feels wonderful.

I let my head rest on his shoulder and relax beside him, "By the way, call me Kat."

**A/N: So…100 FOLLOWERS! YIPPEEEEE! I am sososososo sorry for not updating last weekend. I was preparing for a robotics competition and guess what? It was canceled at the last minute. All my hard work on that arm was FOR NOTHING. GRRRR. I'm not feeling to confident and I know this was kind of a filler chapter but I wanted to include some bonding time between Kat and Loki. You know, budding relationships and whatnot. For those of you who are annoyed by Kat, imagine how **_**feel. **_**I'm the one who has to deal with all her drama. Pffff, characters. By the way, I have some awesome songs for Kat/Loki/OFAF: "Away From the Sun"-Three Doors Down, "Leave My Body"-Florence + the Machine, "I Will Not Bow"-H320, "Fighter"-Christina Aguilera, "One More Night"-Maroon 5, "Sail"-Awolnation, "Tornado"-Jonsi, and "Reflection" from Mulan. Thank you guys so much for reading. All of you are the little bits of sunshine that make my day even brighter. :') **


	14. A Chat With a Snake (an author's note)

Hello, my lovely little Muffins. After hearing all of your wonderful feedback/comments, I've decided to do an interview with Kat and posting it as a companion to OFAF. Do you have any questions for her that you would like answered? Also, would you prefer that Loki make an appearance as well? This is completely up to you, my fantastic readers. Let me know! :)

Updating may be difficult as I am going out of town soon, but I will do the best that I can. Happy Thanksgiving! And if you don't celebrate Thanksgiving, Happy Remainder of November! :)


	15. Lady Kat, Not Kathleen

Getting Loki to call me "Kat" is proving to be more difficult than I thought it would be. He continues to call me "Kathleen". In truth, I never even liked the name. It was the first thing that came to my head. I didn't care. It sounded Irish enough and they wouldn't make me change it.

But my name is exactly what we find ourselves discussing and bickering about on our way back to Stark Tower.

"Do you think that it's because I'm not on your level?" I ask him in the elevator.

"You have part of it," he chuckles.

"Is the other part that it doesn't sound cool or mystique enough to the Great Loki Odinson?" I smirk. Oh, why not have fun with him?

"'The Great Loki Odinson'. You flatter me, serpent," he says.

"I aim to please."

"Should I be wary?"

"No need, after all, I am powerless against you." I lean against him.

"And as long as you remember that, we'll be just fine," he steps away from me.

"Are you going to be nice from here on out?" I pout.

"We never made any such deal, we never shall," he says stiffly.

"Very well," I huff, "but back to Kat. Don't make the excuse that Asgardians have some need to call everyone by their full names. I bet I can get your older brother to call me Kat."

Loki whips his head to face me. Anger flashes in his eyes and his face momentarily twists into a sneer. His hand twitches as though he is going to raise it to me.

Heat gathers beneath the skin of my hands.

That millisecond, that one moment that I am positive that Loki is about to unleash his rage onto me passes.

"...Er, my brother is a vacuous twit. You can make him do anything," he harrumphs.

The elevator opens with a ding and he walks out briskly.

I guess I shouldn't dwell on it too much. I couldn't honestly think that he was going to suddenly start treating me like an equal. It would be stupid to even go there.

Thor is sitting in the sofa, intently reading a gossip magazine. He looks up and smiles.

"Lady Kathleen, Loki," he greets cheerfully, "I hope your-"

Loki ignores him and stalks down the hallway to his room.

"I'm sure you're used to that by now," I say to the god of thunder.

"Oh, I am afraid that isn't so. It..." Thor pauses, "it hurts to see him like this. To see him so angry and bitter. But I have hope." I walk over to the couch and sit next to him.

"That's very strong of you," I tell him, "most people would just give up."

"I will not. I will never give up on my brother." Sweet. Stupid, but sweet.

"Oh! " He exclaims suddenly after a few moments, "Lady Kathleen-"

"Thor, call me Kat," I say warmly.

"All right, Lady Kat, Lord Stark had told me that a gift arrived for you. From Letty the Bearded Woman."

My eyes widen and my stomach leaps, "What? Where is it?"

Thor points to the counter and I run over to it. Surely enough, there it is. My expression falls as I notice the ripped paper wrapped messily around it. This is not in character for Letty.

"Stark apologizes. The security had to inspect it," says Thor. Right, Letty would use voodoo to enchant whatever knickknacks she was gifting to me so that they could attack everyone in the building.

Oh wait, I almost forgot what everyone in this tower thinks of me. Silly Kat.

I take off the paper and bring the shoebox back to the couch with me. Thor peers at it curiously as I open it.

Inside the box is a postcard of the Fisherman's Wharf in San Francisco and a small photo album. I turn the postcard over to read it.

Dear Kat,

I'm sorry I couldn't send any treats to you. Something about "perishable". It sounds more like bullcrap to me. I hope everyone's treating you nicely and that you aren't starving to death. We miss you terribly. Even Carol misses you (I know it's hard to believe, but it's the gospel truth). So we made a little album full of pictures from our greatest adventures. I love you with all my heart and I hope you'll be back soon.

Hugs and kisses,

Letty

Sadness begins to tug at my heart. I set the postcard aside and reach for the reddish, leather bound album. As I flip through the pages, my smile widens.

I can complain about it all I want, but driving through the asphalt veins of the country in a rusty old trailer with Letty and Carol is...well...something special. And with every turn of a page, I feel the joy of that special something more and more. I am back on the road, dancing at the Whiskey-a-Go-Go, pretending to kiss Thomas Jefferson at Mount Rushmore, visiting the World's Biggest Beer Can. There's nothing quite like it. And even though we're wandering everywhere, it feels like home.

But you don't have a home, do you, Kat?

"Is that a ball of twine?" Thor's voice is the only thing that makes me remember that he is, in fact, sitting right next to me.

"Yes," I say, "that is the biggest ball of twine in all of Midgard."

"You humans are so creative," he muses delightedly, "We Asgardians are so wrapped up in battles and feats of strength that we don't have time to create marvels such as these."

His wonderment at these silly pictures makes me laugh. We continue to look at them. I can't help but wonder what Loki is doing right now. I almost wish he would join us. Maybe then he'd be nicer.

How many times do I have to keep correcting myself today?

...

_Loki sits hunched over on his bed. His hands are buried into his raven hair, threatening to pull the black locks from their roots. A cold sheen of sweat has formed on his skin and his eyes are squeezed shut._

_The god of mischief prays that his mind doesn't give in. The hold that Thanos had on him during his attempted conquest of earth is weak but remains. Loki fights and fights, dipping between our world and Thanos's._

_The effort of trying to tear away from the vision twists Loki on the inside, the coil tightening. His breaths are short and hard. His palms are white._

_Even being with Kathleen would be better than this hell._

_Kathleen. With her coppery hair and light freckles that dust the bridge of her nose. With the eyes that seem to become darker when she makes advances toward him (advances he finds humor in rejecting). With her small, dimpled hands that become hot and red when her flame comes alive._

_Not her flame. His flame. She would never have improved if it hadn't been for him. She owes him. And he owns her. She makes herself so tragically easy to own, even though she doesn't like to believe it. She sees herself as a freedom fighter, one who saves the innocent from oppression, but she cannot even save herself. Always letting other people determine her worth, letting them control her._

_And Loki loves control._

_So he shall do exactly that. The same way he always has. Yet, there's something about her. The dark of her eyes, the unruliness of her hair...the glisten of her scales in the light of her-his flame. Something feral..._

_"Falling in love, are we?" a cold voice cuts through Loki's mind and the coil snaps. He falls on all fours, looking up to Thanos. The immense alien stares down from his rocky throne at the pitied god. The starry sky creates a vast blanket of white points behind him._

_"What do you want?" Loki rasps._

_"You were told that if you failed to bring us the Tesseract, there would be no place in this universe or any other where I could not find you," says Thanos._

_Loki nods, looking up to the alien and searching for a trace of mercy in his eyes._

_"The Tesseract can wait in Asgard. The Aesir have become soft and accustomed to a lifestyle of peace. Their "battles" are no more than hunting trips or small melees. They will be easy to defeat, but you already know this. No, I plan to make you suffer. That is far more satisfying."_

_"What did you have in mind?" asks Loki._

_"Your reward for helping Kathleen master her ability was the restoration of your powers, am I wrong?"_

_"No," Loki's hands ache for the feel of his cold magic._

_"I've decided to raise the stakes. Help her to master her ability, and she will be allowed to do whatever she wants with you."_

_"What?" Loki furrows his brow._

_"If I plan to conquer the whole of the universe, I must have someone to rule Earth in my stead. I have chosen her. She may not have the Tesseract, but fire spreads and you've been helping her to ignite that fire. While I am grateful, I cannot truly speak for her. All I know is that once she has the entire world at her mercy, she'll have you too. And so, she is allowed to what she wants with you. If she gives you to me, well, you're already aware of your fate. If she is appreciative and lets you go free, then you will receive power beyond your wildest dreams. You will assist me in conquering Asgard, I receive the Tesseract and you receive a kingdom. We all live 'happily ever after'. And if she decides to kill you. Heh, you know what she's capable of. I've seen her mind. She's already very creative but I've given her a few ideas myself. Lady Death will be pleased," explains Thanos._

_Loki finds himself speechless. His fate hangs by a thread, a thread that could be cut either by Kathleen's hand or by Thanos's._

_"Oh, you cannot tell me you don't want at least a fighting chance," says Thanos._

_"Why are you doing this? Why not just take me now?" questions Loki._

_Thanos rises from his throne, kneels on one knee and gives him a chilling smile, "Because I love control every bit as much as you do."_

_Thanos rises and begins to walk away. "Oh, to be fair, I'll put in a good word for you to Kathleen. I would love to see Asgard and Earth come together through your union. Don't think I don't see you two arguing like an old, married couple. And do not think for a moment that I do not see your desire. It may small, but it is still there. I told you, Loki, you should have looked for her. Every king needs a queen."_

_Loki sees a Leviathan slithering behind Thanos's throne. It makes its way around and comes toward him. His heart pounds as it begins to slither closer to him and is opening its jaws to devour him whole._

_The god of mischief stares at the white, popcorn ceiling of his room. It is the last thing he glimpses before his world turns to black._

A/N: Whoa. More stuff happened in this chapter. The scale is becoming wider. It was pretty fun to write from Loki's third person POV. I loved explaining Loki's view of Kat, especially. Nope, he still doesn't know she's the little girl from Midgard he met so many years ago. *sigh* By the way, the interview is up, so check it out. Please, please review. I will love you forever and make you some virtual pie in honor of Thanksgiving. And if you don't celebrate Thanksgiving, I'll make you some anyway because pie is the shit.


	16. Interruptions

Chapter Fifteen

"So, Khaleesi, is there something you want to tell us?" Tony's voice interrupts me just as I am about to explain to Thor what a Ferris wheel is and how it works. Or at least…how I think it works.

"Uh, I got lovely gift from my friends," I offer as I look up. It would appear that Tony isn't the only one cornering me against the sofa. Both Natasha and Barton are standing on either side of him with their arms crossed. Hmm, tough guys.

"What is the meaning of this, Stark?" Thor growls, furrowing his brow.

"Kathleen, Can you explain to us how your 'friends' managed to figure out our headquarters?" demands Natasha.

I actually had not thought of that. Though Ginger has a point, I can't imagine which member of the freak show would have the ability to find out where we are. None of the freaks knew where I was going. They didn't even know why. But they didn't question it. After years of living through constant torment and abuse, most of the freaks have learned to go along with it and not ask too many questions. If people treat you like a mindless animal long enough, eventually, you can become one.

"Ms. O'Malley, if you're in cahoots with other organizations, friends or foes, now would be the best time to let us know," poses Barton. I've seen him training. For an unassuming-looking man, he has skill. His finesse with the bow and arrow would put some of the greatest warriors I've seen to shame. Even now, without his signature weapon, he looks dangerous, holding me with a threatening gaze that is similar to the one currently held by Natasha.

"I'm not in cahoots with anyone," I say lightly. "With my career and my personal life, I really don't have time to align myself with any of the 'bad guys'." Yeah, really. Even getting a good murder in every now and again is hard with my schedule.

"I guess it really won't matter right now because we've already sent a team out to San Francisco," huffs Stark.

My heart stops.

"What?"

"Someone hacked into our system and managed to find our headquarters. If the hacker is working for someone who we'd rather not be involved with, we have to find out. Even they're innocent, we can't take any risks," says Natasha.

With SHIELD's technology, the team is probably more than half way across the country now. I imagine them invading the grounds where the trailers are parked. Kicking the frail Mr. Bumble to the ground. Beating Letty to a pulp as though she hasn't suffered enough in her life. Little Penny's screams ringing throughout the night air as they break down the door of the room where she's hiding. I can see their violence fueled further by shock of seeing how hideous these freaks are.

And in this moment, I want to kill them all for it. I want to paralyze Barton and maul him from the inside, while he moans from the pain of his slow death. I want to dig my hand into Tony's chest, rip out his arc reactor and see how long it takes for him to snuff it as his blood and organs pour through the gaping hole. I want to erase the beauty of Natasha's body by burning her to a crisp from the neck down. Then I would cut off her head and show it to all as a warning. A warning to all who would hurt the helpless and the innocent.

"Is this really necessary, mortals?" Loki's voice almost seems to slither through the air and cut through any threatening vibe the two spies are emitting. And the vibe Stark is trying to give off.

"Hey, Reindeer Games, keep in mind that you couldn't even manage to take over the world. What suddenly makes you the expert on how SHIELD runs itself?" snaps Stark.

Loki chuckles, "For one, I was able to occupy some of the agents' minds for quite a bit of time." He nods at a very displeased-looking Clint. "What I mean is that if Kathleen or her…friends were aligning themselves with sinister forces, would not you have known by now? You seem to consider yourselves to be, as they say, 'that good'."

It seems someone's decided to play the Big Damn Hero today.

"I've already explained to Kathleen that we can't afford to take any risks," says Natasha sharply.

Loki sighs. "I suppose my opinion doesn't really matter. I merely would advise you to know that a group of disfigured sub-humans shouldn't be a priority with such a large enemy on the horizon."

A silence falls over the room. I can't decide if I am angry or thankful that he at least tried to help a little bit (even if he insulted my friends the process).

"Kathleen, you don't look very well," Loki speaks up. "You've had a very long and rather successful day. As your teacher, I believe you should rest."

"I…What are you even-" I begin. Loki briefly glances at my hands. When I look down, I see why. My hands are hot and rosy, ready to release the flame that is creeping and burning just beneath my skin.

I am a hair away from obliterating Stark Tower and everyone in it. Though right now, it sounds like a lovely idea.

I take a deep breath, "You're right, Loki. I am feeling a little under the weather. Would you mind taking me back to my room?"

"Wait, you said a successful day, Rock of Ages? Does that mean Khaleesi has something to show us?" Stark asks eagerly, the subject of terrorizing my coworkers long forgotten.

"Maybe tomorrow. It is unwise for Kathleen to exert herself while she's feeling out of sorts," Loki strides over to me and takes my hands, he cringes slightly at the heat of them. He wraps one arm around my shoulders and begins to lead me to my room.

"Oh! Lady Kat, don't forget this," Thor hands me my album before we can wander too far.

"Thanks," I say softy, cradling the album close to my chest, knowing that embracing these pictures of them is the closest I'll ever get to holding them and telling them everything will be fine. I wish I could comfort them and say that SHIELD won't hurt them and if they did, I would burn them to the ground. But I can't. SHIELD took me away from them. I've abandoned them.

I give Thor one last smile and Loki walks me to my room.

When we arrive, Loki shuts the door behind us and sits me down on the bed.

"Breathe, Kathleen. Breathe," he says calmly. "Let yourself cool down." I shakily suck in and out, trying to bring down my temperature. The heat doesn't feel as comfortable as it usually does. It feels stifling and sends an itchy, dirty feeling throughout my body. Loki goes into my bathroom, takes the little cup resting on the edge of the sink and fills it with water. He brings it back to me and sits down on the bed.

My understanding of Loki's character (or the little that I did understand) is quickly crumbling away.

"You can't afford to let your emotions drive your ability. This will lead to incidents like that day in the alley, when you caused more destruction than you intended," he tells me firmly. "You must channel your emotions, but by no means are you to let them take complete control. Do I make myself clear?"

I gulp down a mouthful of cool water, "Crystal, Your Highness." The water immediately takes effect and flushes away the redness gathering in my skin.

"I know that you feel their actions were unjust and cruel, but you must learn to be more cunning. If you are caught in a situation similar to that, use the cleverness of a snake and the conquering power of flame to achieve your ends. You have them both inside of you, all you need to do now is to learn how to merge them."

What witchcraft is this? I clear my throat, "When did you become all wise, O Great Swami?"

"My words are not the products of any great wisdom. It is simply a fact. One cannot perform magical arts effectively if one's mind is muddled with crippling emotions. No, one's mind has to be clear, focused, and calm. Not unlike a snake about to strike at its prey."

"That's another thing. When did you become so fascinated with snake analogies?" I raise an eyebrow.

"Snakes are truly fascinating creatures when studied from afar," muses Loki, keeping his gaze on me. "They appear to be so peaceful, so silent as they glide along the ground. And they use that silence, that stealth to get what they want. A serpent's grasp is firm, unshakable, and constraining-

"Yet, they can slip through your fingers just as easily," I purr, placing a hand on his knee and leaning forward, allowing him to get a view of the flesh that my low-cut shirt exposes.

"As I said, studied from afar," Loki removes my hand from his knee and gently pushes me back.

I'm honestly starting to think he's just a prude. A prude who made an attempt to stop the SHIELD from hurting my friends. A prude who sort-of complimented me and gave me words of encouragement.

A prude who got me a damn glass of water.

"Your Highness?" I say.

"Yes, Kathleen."

"I'm feeling more and more ridiculous."

"And why is that?" he smirks.

"Well, it seems I have to keep thanking you for everything."

"Are you about to do it again?"

"Yes."

"Then the pleasure is mine entirely. Truly, it was nothing."

"Thank you for stepping in and trying to help. It was-"

"Sweet?" laughs Loki, "It would seem that everything I do is sweet to you. When are you going to-"

What I do next is seemingly unthinkable. He's right. I think he's sweet—only he's not. It's the only thing I can think of to keep him from saying anymore. And the only thing I can think of to keep me from saying anymore and sounding like an idiot.

I plant a kiss on his cheek.

Loki's voice catches in his throat as I remove my lips from his face. He stares at me, his eyes aren't full of disgust or hate, just surprise. I only give him a small, playful smile in return. He places his long fingers on the spot where I kissed him and for a moment, I think I see a faint blush spread over his cheeks.

The god of mischief blinks suddenly and harrumphs. He stands up and straightens his shirt as though my kiss was some kind of vigorous activity before heading to the door.

"We will continue practicing in the morning, per usual," he says uprightly. "Good night, Kathleen."

The moment he shuts the door, my face falls and I throw my head into my hands.

Later, I lie in bed, shaming myself. I've made many stupid mistakes in my life, but never this many in such a short amount of time. All because one reasonably attractive alien became my teacher, I've been acting like a fool. That's what? About two, three times today that he's made me second-guess his true nature? Does he do this with everyone? Well, of course he does. He's the God of Lies.

And I'm a silly girl who will never be able stop others from manipulating her feelings. My parents did it. Johnny did it. And now Loki is doing it. No, I'm too old for that now. That part of me is as old as I am. It has been with my from the time that midwife shrieked at seeing my form for the first time.

It's a part that will never change and that will keep allowing this same vicious cycle to occur.

**A/N: I'm not really proud of this chapter. I know I sound like a broken record now. *sigh* School has been kicking my ass and with midterms coming up (because my school is stupid that way), it will be more difficult to get more updates in. I suppose from now on, updates will be bi-weekly but that isn't a promise. I can only promise that I will update when I can. I'm truly sorry. But at least I got something in. Here's Loki trying to be nice to Kat now that he has a real reason to. Consider this a belated Hannukah/Christmas/Yule/Kwanzaa/whateverthehellyoucelebrated uringDecember gift. I miss you guys a lot. Really. :') Happy Holidays!**


	17. Misery Loves Company

Chapter Sixteen

_ The rusty metal cuffs dig into my wrists as I try to pull my hands out of them. It is the only way I can even try to get out. The chains have been charmed so that if I were to turn into a serpent, they would instantly be turned into a cage to box me in. The air is damp and the walls of my cell are glistening with moisture. I can hear water rushing within the walls of this chasm. My flame would be useless in here._

_ Not to mention, the guards have been armed with buckets of water._

_ After a while, I give up and slide down to the ground, resting my head in my arms. I catch a reflection of myself in a small puddle on the ground. My face has become gaunt and ashen, and my eyes are watery and my lashes are crusted with dried mucus. Much of my hair has been sheared off, leaving nothing but scraggly little tufts on my scalp. The Master said my locks would not go to waste. No, my hair would be used to make lace, the loveliest red lace anyone in this universe could find. He said that I should be glad that even in imprison, people would want for me-or at least, part of me. Just as I've always wanted._

_ The Master lied to me. He said I was going to be a queen. I would get a crown, a throne, everything. I was going to be able to help those who needed it the most…and destroy the people that had caused them to need my help in the first place. I was going to be a hero._

_ And he tricked me._

_ The metal door to my cell creaks open and I look up. The master stands high above me, cloaked and hooded, the only part of this face I see is his teeth as his mouth curves into a sinister smile. I recoil against the wall._

_ "She's all yours," he looks down next to him. My heart jumps to my throat when I see what he speaks to. _

_ A large, dark green snake slides between two of the bars of my prison and across the soft ground towards my own scale-covered feet. Its tongue slithers in and out between its lips, and it opens its mouth, revealing fangs dripping with venom._

_ The master turns to me, "He said he'd try not to make too much of a mess, but he couldn't make any promises. Have fun."_

_ I don't even want to fight. I just wish I could turn into a serpent and crawl through any crack that would lead me to safety and freedom. I could let the cage shield me if I took my other form, but this one is no mere serpent. He can do so much more than I ever could._

_ The snake has cornered me completely, there is no way to escape this. I take a shaky breath. The snake poises itself to strike as I close my eyes._

_ Two small, poisonous daggers sink themselves through the thin fabric of my tattered frock and into the soft flesh of my waist. The painful dizzying venom immediately begins to take effect. My vision become blurry and I forget where the serpent has gone. I fall back and face the ceiling, not knowing where the next attack will come from._

_ I am briefly brought out of my dazed state by the fangs biting into the tenderness just above my right breast. Needles of white-hot pain dart throughout my chest as a cry out, begging the beast to stop. But the attacks continue and after several minutes, I find myself lying face down, mud caking my face. My hands, breasts, and stomach are slick with blood and I am smearing it all over the ground. He didn't promise anything, just as he said he wouldn't. Every one of my limbs aches and is black and blue where there is no red pouring out. _

_ When he doesn't strike again, I look up. Loki is staring down at me, his emerald eyes alive with sheer madness and his cruel smile drenched with blood. My blood. I retch at the thought._

_ Loki covers my mouth. "Oh, no," he says thickly, "we'll be having none of that." Loki grabs a short clump of my hair and pulls my head away from him, exposing more of my neck. _

_ This time it is tears, not venom, that blur my vision. "Please," I whimper softly. "Stop this."_

_ Loki ignores my plea and sinks his teeth into the skin of my neck. _

…

I wake up in the darkness, panting and drenched in a cold sweat. The only lights are the ones of the city night life below that are just barely peeking through the curtain of my wide window. Water. I need water.

And I need to let this nightmare shrivel up and blow away. The last thing I need is to be even more frightened of Loki. I let my eyes adjust, rise from my bed, and walk into the hallway.

The kitchen light is on. I tip toe over and squint at the harsh light to see who else could possibly be up at three AM.

"It's far past your bedtime, Kathleen."

My heart leaps to my throat. I suppose it's too late to retreat. I take a gulp and walk ahead into the kitchen. Loki is sitting in his usual spot at the counter, nursing a glass of water and reading a book.

"I might say the same thing to you, Your Highness. I thought princes needed their beauty sleep."

"This prince is happy to rise from his slumber for _Macbeth,_" despite Loki's response, he has a haunted look in his eyes. As though he's just seen a ghost or almost got hit by a drunk redneck driving a pickup truck.

"At least I have an excuse to be awake at this hour," continues Loki, "What exactly are you doing this time of night?"

"Getting some water. I was thirsty."

"Just thirsty? Kathleen, you look as though you've been attacked." Great.

I am silent for a moment. "I, uh, had a nightmare."

Loki looks at me quizzically, "Did you now?"

"Yeah," I blurt, "I was being attacked by…a monster."

Loki says nothing and takes another sip of his water. "That _is _peculiar," he muses. "I had a nightmare myself."

"Oh?"

"I was at a feast back in Asgard. I asked a girl to dance and she only screamed in response. When I looked down, I was…" Loki doesn't finish. This is the first time I've ever heard trail off. He stares into the air, his eyes following the memory of a dream I cannot see.

"You were?" I ask.

Loki suddenly comes out of his reverie, "Naked. I was naked."

"Ah, I see," I say, pouring myself a glass of water from the pitcher on the counter. I'm unsure whether Loki is lying or not. I'm leaning more towards that he is, although being his prudish self, it does seem in character for him to be insecure about being naked. Maybe Thor has something special that he doesn't. Heh-heh.

I don't feel as frightened as I thought I would. The image of Loki hunched over me, teeth soaked with blood still lingers in my mind. Yet I am startlingly unafraid. Really, how could anyone be scared of Loki right now? With his bed head, his Dethklok pajamas (courtesy of Stark), and New York Giants glass of water, Loki looks remarkably non-threatening.

Although that _is_ how he lures people in.

Still, I feel strangely at ease. Aside from Thor, Loki is the only one who I've felt even slightly comfortable being alone with. All I know right now is that I don't want to have to go back to my room and try to fall asleep alone.

"Loki, would you mind sleeping in my room?" I ask him abruptly.

Loki chuckles, "You are a truly fascinating creature, Kathleen. Even in the wee hours of the morning you have enough energy to try and seduce me."

"I'm actually not up for anything like that right now," I say hotly. "It's just that," I take a breath, "I don't want to have another nightmare."

"And you think that _I'll _keep the monsters away?"

"You can certainly try. You are a mighty prince, after all."

"Perhaps it would be best to assure that my pupil gets her full rest," he grins. "Go back to your room, I'll be there in a moment."

"Okey-dokey," I take my glass, head over, and slip into my bed. Several moments later, Loki comes in bearing a futon, a pillow, and a large quilt. He is holding his glass with his teeth. Loki makes up his sleeping equipment and nestles beneath the quilt.

"Sleep well, Kathleen," he says softly, almost kindly. Loki's presence makes a difference. I feel safer, warmer. My parents weren't really the tuck-you-into-bed types and I had missed out on that. But having Loki here seems to make up for all the scary nights I had to face without my parents.

I do not wish Loki a good night, for I am almost gone. My eyes close completely and I am carried down gently into the peaceful deep.

…

The weeks turn to months, and before I can blink, the autumn breeze picks up and becomes a biting winter wind. I have learned more and more about the Avengers. Rogers enjoys Superman comics. Natasha isn't a natural redhead (I felt particularly comforted by this. It's bad luck to have too many redheads together.) Banner enjoys ping-pong. Thor has become a Skyrim fan. Still, I keep them at a distance. As it turns out, SHIELD raided the freak show grounds. Not just inspected, _raided. _Apparently no one was hurt…too badly. They couldn't find anything, but they kept the grounds under surveillance for two weeks.

Penny didn't speak or eat for five days after the raid. Sweet, happy little Penny. The Penny who loves to dance and laugh and catch butterflies with her tattered old net. The Penny who looks up to me, depends on me, maybe even loves me.

And they took me away from her. I will never forgive them for that.

Loki, of all people, is the island in the midst of this stormy sea. Granted, a very small and relatively unlivable island, but an island nonetheless. Loki has extended our practice hours from 9 AM to 4 PM, even advising me to just make myself lunch and bringing it with me to practice. The only time this hasn't worked out was when I turned the chicken salad sandwich I had been looking forward to into a small pile of ash. Loki, being the slave driver that he is, didn't even let me go up to get myself a fresh one. But at least I've stopped setting clothes on fire. And all of this time in the practice room has allowed me to avoid the Avengers for most of my day.

Outside of practice, Loki is civil but seems to be keeping his distance. His comments aren't as harsh anymore. I am cautious, but less so than I am around the Avengers. Although Loki doesn't say anything about it, I get the feeling that he understands me more than the rest of them would. Almost as though he knows what it's like to be considered an outcast (even before his little attempted invasion).

But if that isn't our common ground, our nightmares are. Mine have been getting more and more vivid, almost tangible. Sometimes, they are so horrendous, I resort to taking Nyquil in order to allow myself a dreamless slumber. Loki has been having them too. He doesn't tell me what they are, just as I don't tell him. Yet, occasionally, I manage to get him to sleep in room and we both wake up more refreshed than we do on most nights. He's always gone before I rise, leaving no trace that he was there. But it doesn't matter.

It's a bit pathetic, really. Freaks of a feather flock together.

**A/N: Kind of a slow chapter, but it's an important step in Kat and Loki's relationship. I'm so sorry for not updating in forever. School is being a dildo (yes, I started watching Metalocalypse and now I'm speaking like the characters). Thank you to all those who faithfully stuck with this story, I'll get another chapter up as soon as I can. :D**


	18. Nakedness

Chapter Seventeen

_When he doesn't strike again, I look up. Loki is staring down at me, his emerald eyes alive with sheer madness and his cruel smile drenched with blood. My blood. I retch at the thought._

_ Loki covers my mouth. "Oh, no," he says with a spine-tingling grin, "we'll be having none of that." Loki grabs a short clump of my hair and pulls my head away from him, exposing more of my neck._

_ This time tears, not venom, blur my vision. "Please," I whimper softly. "Stop this." _  
_ Loki meets my eyes, only to grin wider and plunge his teeth into my neck._

I rise from beneath the bathwater heaving; the first breath I take feels merciful. I whip my head left and right. There is no snake to be seen. Of course there isn't. I am the snake around here. There should be no reason for me to panic about Loki transforming into a serpent and eating me for lunch.

Yet that same nightmare keeps coming.

Of course, there have been different ones: me freezing to death, me being flayed alive, me being completely ostracized by my freak show friends. But this one nightmare always tends to resurface. I cannot escape it, not even when I submerge myself beneath the bathwater.

I nearly jump out of my skin when I hear rapid knocking at the bathroom door. "Katherine? Are you decent? I'd like to speak to you."

There is a hint of urgency in Loki's voice. I breathe out and look down at myself. The water seems cloudy enough. And if he's too distracted, why should I care? It's my bath that he's interrupting.

"Yes, come on in," I answer sweetly.

As soon as he opens the door, he turns away from me and purses his lips. "I thought you said you were decent," he says, his voice strained.

"I think I am. In fact, I think I look pretty hot," I say. Why not play games with him? It'll keep me from pulling stupid romantic crap. Plus, winding him up never ceases to entertain me.

"Kathleen, would you please put some clothes on?"

"Why? Am I distracting you?" I relax my shoulders, allowing him to get a better view of the tops of my breasts.

"You're disg-"

"Disgusting you?" I say hollowly. "I should have known you were gonna say that. But just so you know, if I get out of the bath, you're going to have to get another look at my 'disgusting' body. I'm gonna have to dry myself off nice and slow, getting behind my ears and between my toes. And then-"

"Kathleen, this matter is urgent and I don't believe it is an appropriate time for me to…properly reject your attempts at seducing me."

"All right," I huff, fighting the blood rushing to my face. "Since it's clear that you won't be too distracted, tell me what's wrong." To make my point, I sit up all the way, revealing my breasts to him completely. I tell myself that I've done this for thousands of men and that I shouldn't feel shy about this. I don't. I really don't. Hmph.

Loki pinches his forehead, takes a breath, and looks back at me.

"I lied to you about the nightmares I've been having," he says.

"I had a feeling you were."

"Oh?"

"I lied to you too."

"I know. That's why I decided that we should not act childish about this anymore."  
I twirl a rope of wet hair around my finger, "So…what's the deal?"

"These dreams and visions…we've been having are, well, not simply dreams and visions. Thanos himself is doing this."

My heart leaps to my throat. I suddenly get the feeling that we are being watched. I gulp, "How? How is he doing this?"

Loki stands up and turns away from me, his hands folded neatly behind his back. "The hold that Thanos had on me during my time on Midgard has weakened…since my defeat. But it still remains. Thanos is using that bond to get to me, to get to you, to get to all of us."

"All of us?"

"Clearly you haven't been getting close enough to my brother and his friends. I would have thought that was your specialty." He faces toward me again, firmly holding my gaze and not glancing at my chest for a moment.

"Since when did you get so warm and cuddly?" I raise an eyebrow. "How do you know that they've been having nightmares?"

Loki smirks, "Luckily, I have an advantage that you lack. My brother seems to still think that there's hope for me."

"With all due respect, your brother isn't exactly the brightest bulb on the Christmas tree."  
"That's exactly why it became easier for me to put the pieces together. Both my brother and his friends have been having various nightmares, but there are two that occur the most often."

"What would those be?" My heart picks up speed. I get the feeling that I know what he's going to say next, but I don't want him to actually say the words.  
"In one of them, I kill you. In the other, you kill me." I don't respond. How can I? He has seen everything that I've seen. He's seen my fantasies, my fears. I seem to have an idea of what he wants, too. I shiver at the thought of my blood dripping down his chin. We both know what the other can do.

"I presume this all sounds familiar," says Loki.

"Yes, but…" I trail off.

"But…"

"Why?" I ask a little too loudly.

"I think he's trying to turn us against each other."

"I don't think that's any more possible."

"No, Kathleen. Don't you see? Thanos is promising us things we both want. Meanwhile, he's reminding us and the Avengers what we're capable of," says Loki.

"Have you told them this?" I ask.

"They wouldn't believe me," he snaps. "They would dismiss it as superstition."  
"…or as the effects of indigestion."

"And what reason do they have to believe either of us?"

"It doesn't help that we're villains in their story," I smile softly. "So, what do we do?"  
"Kathleen, you have to try and shut the nightmares out of your mind. It will be difficult, but you must do it. Think of it as building a wall." As if I needed to learn something else. I have to build walls in my mind on top of learning to get my fire completely under my control.

"Does this chat mean we're officially in this together?" I ask.

"I suppose it does, and I suppose we are." With that, he opens the door to leave.  
But I'm not done with him. Not just yet. I decide that I'll take my chances to make him stay, however slim they may be. I grab the sides of the bathtub and pull myself up, letting the water stream down my naked body. When it hits me that I've just bared myself before him completely, butterflies begin to flutter in the pit of my stomach.

My skin reacts to the shock of cold air by breaking out in gooseflesh. I fight the blood rushing to my face, breasts, and…other parts of my anatomy. I realize that this is the first time I've ever been completely naked in front of a man. Back at Mr. Bumble's, I only ever went topless (believe me, my snake legs weren't Bumble's means to making money off of me). And topless was usually as far as I went with other men I had fooled around with in my lifetime. But here I am, in front of Loki, of all people, completely naked- and feeling more self-conscious then I should about it.

Even Loki seems momentarily thrown off by my actions. Then again, that was the idea. So I fight the blush and try to retain my cool façade.

"Loki, aren't you tempted?"

"Tempted?" Loki's eyes wander below my eyes for a split second. I delicately lift one leg over the edge of the bathtub rim, letting it graze the edge of the tub suggestively. Then I lift my other leg out, making sure my hips sway in the most flattering way.

I now stand no more than a foot away from the God of Mischief, completely naked, completely exposed. The water pools at our feet.

"You know," I raise my eyelids heavily to meet his piercing gaze, "tempted by the idea of having total control over me. Like the way you did in your dreams," I murmur.

By now, our noses are almost touching. I raise my hand and place my dripping finger on his collarbone. He stiffens. Slowly, I drag my finger down his cotton tee, leaving a wet trail from his left clavicle to just above where I'd image his heart would lie.

"I thought you'd give Thanos another chance just so you could put me in my place like that."

His bore into my own. Yet, he doesn't push me away. He exhales deeply, still keeping his gaze locked onto mine.

"You're right, Kathleen. It would quite fun to exercise control over you and watch you struggle under me."

The tingling in my abdomen increases. "But…?"

"I don't trust Thanos. Not anymore. I know how powerful he is. He is a remarkable tempter and manipulator, even better than myself I would say." Loki places his large hands on my shoulders, stroking them gently with his thumbs. The shivers begin to run down my spine. "Kathleen, whatever you do, don't believe anything he tells you. You may not be able to shut him out completely, but whatever you do, don't believe his lies."

"Yes, sir," I say softly. He truly is a work of art. All straight lines and chiseled features, with no bumps or bruises to be found.

Loki is beautiful.

Now I know that, I want him to be mine. I want him to see me naked and not be repulsed. I want to be kissed and bitten and ravished by him. I want be able to pleasure him with my hands and hips and mouth and breasts in all the ways I know.  
I continue to study him, all the while tracing designs with my fingers on his shirt. His brow has softened and now he is studying me, in turn. Does he see me the way that I see him? I wonder.

He wants me. I know he does. Why else would he tell me all of this?

Before I can move forward to plant a kiss on his lips, he clears his throat abruptly and removes my hand from his chest.

"I will see you at supper, Kathleen," he says stiffly. With that, he slips out of my bathroom, almost taking off in a run.

The moment the door shuts, the wave of tears begins to swell. It crashes over me when I fall to floor, my body consumed by angry, frustrated sobs. I realize that my stupidity in throwing myself at him isn't just a longing to be accepted.

It is a longing to be loved.  
...

_As soon as the door clicks shut, Loki slumps against the wall, his breathing heavy. He had almost given in that time, had almost succumbed to her charms._

_ It mustn't happen again._

_ Loki straightens up, adjusting his pants to accommodate the effects of Kathleen's attempts at seduction. Letting out a deep sigh, he realizes how far off the path he has fallen. The feelings he feels for this… woman? Creature? Whatever she is, she had slipped her fingers under the God of Mischief's skin. And now she is beginning to tug._  
_ Loki begins to make his way to his room. Quickly. He doesn't wish for anyone to see him so vulnerable and… well, aroused._

_ Except for a brief moment where he has to blend into the shadows to avoid the red-headed woman in black, Loki makes it to his room unnoticed._

_ He rests his back against the door of his room, glad to finally be alone. Thor is off with Stark and Barton on SHIELD business, so the room is quiet._

_ Loki glances down and is dismayed to see that it will take more than simply ignorance to rid himself of the swollen bulge in his pants._

_ Reluctantly, Loki slides his back down the door to rest on the ground. He tugs off his jeans and his boxers and inspects himself. A small moan escapes his lips at the sight of what Kathleen had done to him._

_ Kathleen._

_ He throws his head back against the door in frustration, letting out a rumbling groan as he scrunches up his eyes. He brings his slender fingers up to his face and rubs his temples, trying to dissect the situation._

_ Kathleen is a false front. It had always been clear to him that she hides her true self behind the flimsy cover of a slut. As a result, Loki had seen through her initial advances and brushed them off simply as Kathleen's way of dealing with his harsh methods._  
_ But the most recent advance was the closest Loki had ever come to seeing the true Kat. She had started talking to him as the slut, but had let the façade slip away when she rose from the bath, flushed, wet, and exposed._

_ Another moan. But no, it is not time for sweet release yet._

_ She really feels something for him. But, why? He had beaten her, humiliated her, taunted her, screamed at her- unless..._

_ Unless she realized that that Loki not the true Loki either. Until just a few hours ago, Loki had also been putting up a false front. Is it possible that she had realized it? Had she seen through the God of Mischief's disguise? She couldn't possibly have._

_ But she is older and wiser than he had ever suspected. Loki suspects that her powers are only beginning to blossom, and when they finally mature, Kathleen will be a true force to be reckoned with._

_ Their conversation in the bathroom was initiated by Loki's desire to inform Kathleen of Thanos's plans. But it had turned into so much more than that._

_ She had glimpsed the true Loki, even if she didn't realize it._

_ When she rose out of the bath, the water dripping down from her drenched hair and running in rivulets between her breasts… He faltered. It took all of his strength not to seize her right there and take her. Oh, the things she makes him feel… He had not felt such things in years._

_ Loki turns his attention to his now fully erect member. It will not take much to bring himself to the edge. He lightly strokes his cock, feeling his seed pulsating within him._  
_ He closes his eyes, and indulges himself._

A/N: I know. I'm a scumbag. I just wanna thank you guys for being so patient. I've had a hell of a year and things will only get crazier. *sigh* So I really hope you guys enjoy this chapter. OFAF will be rated M from now on because sexytimes. I'd also like to thank Nataquack with every fiber of my being for helping me with this chapter because it would be nonexistent without her. :')


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